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moonstruckme · 3 months ago

Note

Hi lovely! Can you do poly!wolfstar or either of the two with reader who suddenly feels rlly overstimulated at a party despite the fact that she parties a lot? Thank you! <33

Thank you for requesting <3

cw: overstimulation, not explicitly a panic attack but looks p similar, thick crowd/claustrophobia

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

The crush of bodies is almost too dense to see through. Luckily, Remus can look over most heads.

He ought to have known better than to try to carry three drinks on his own. Nearly a third of the one that’ll have to be his has spilled down his hand and wrist, the three of them held over his head as he pushes through the crowd. It’s a rather large apartment, but an apartment still, which Sirius' coworker has absolutely packed with people. Remus is fairly sure if he looked over he’d see the door to the hallway is open, party guests spilling out into the hall where the smoke from cigarettes and spliffs floats back inside. It’s a nice home, but it smells like any underground club now, like smoke and drink and too many bodies.

You and Sirius aren’t where Remus left you. He doesn’t think much of it. It’s difficult to stay in one place with this many people moving about like undisciplined schools of fish. He skims over the tops of heads until he finds a familiar one, Sirius’ dark hair gleaming in the low light of a corner. He’s holding you close to his front, your face in his neck and his hand cupped protectively over the back of your head. He looks like he’s speaking into your ear, dark brows pinched.

Remus’ heart clenches.

He spills more of your drinks as he hastens to you, sets them down on a mantle on the way. Sirius catches his eyes when he’s nearly there. He says something to you, rubbing your back.

“Hi.” Remus has to speak louder than he likes, over the sound of too many other voices. He devotes one hand to the back of your neck and the other to Sirius’ shoulder. “Everything alright?”

Sirius shakes his head. He looks anxious. “I don’t know what happened,” he says. In a sweeter voice, his hand moving over your back, “I think we’ve just got a bit overwhelmed, hm?”

You haven’t reacted to Remus’ presence. Now that he’s closer he can see you’ve got your fingers curled in the front of Sirius’ shirt like a lifeline, your grip rigid.

Remus gives Sirius’ shoulder a squeeze. “Sweetheart,” he says gently, “can you look at me?”

You turn your face from Sirius’ neck. Your eyes are glassy and wide, your chest falling in quick, short pants. You look like you don’t know what’s happening to you, either.

“You’re okay.” Remus presses a kiss to your temple, looking around to assess your options. “You’re okay, my love. We’re going to go somewhere quieter, alright?”

The door’s too far. If the crowd’s what’s overwhelming you, it could only make things worse to push through. There’s a line for the only bathroom. But there is a balcony, not too far and better than nothing if you can get to it.

A speaker nearby booms as Remus reaches for Sirius’ hand. He’s murmuring to you, something Remus can’t hear over the music, but he looks up at the touch.

“You’ve got her?” Remus asks.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He presses a quick kiss to the back of Sirius’ hand before starting to tug the both of you along.

The crowd parts more easily for Remus than it would for either of you. He mutters sorrys and excuse mes as he plows through with the two of you in tow. Sirius keeps you held tight to him, your hands still fisted in his shirt. When Remus opens the sliding door to the balcony, the difference in both air quality and noise level is pronounced.

“Can we have some space, please?” Remus asks the couple smoking outside. His voice comes out sharper than he intends, curt and all business, but he can’t find it in himself to regret it when they quickly put out their cigarettes and head inside.

Sirius helps you into a chair. “I know, baby, I know, just take a breath. We’re okay, see? Everything’s alright.”

Your first real inhale sends twin tears tumbling down your cheeks. It shudders back out of you. You seem like you’d been frozen, trapped inside your own head, and now you’re coming back out.

“There you go.” Remus’ voice is softer now. It aches in the back of his throat, worry and love and guilt at leaving you two alone. Though you did have each other, and it seems it’s a good thing you did. “Just keep doing like that, babydove. We’ve got you.”

Sirius looks pained at your tears, but he rubs your leg and crouches on the floor so that Remus can take the chair beside yours. Remus sets a hand on his boyfriend’s head as he sits, smoothing down his hair to rub between his shoulders comfortingly.

They let you work through most of your anxiety in silence, offering only the occasional murmur of encouragement or weak, consoling joke about fire codes. Eventually your breaths even out and your tears stop. You let your head loll onto Remus’ shoulder, expelling a sigh.

“I don’t…” you mumble. “Don’t know what just happened.”

They’re both relieved to hear your voice, Sirius squeezing your leg affectionately while Remus smooths a few pieces of hair from your face. “There’s an awful lot going on in there,” says Remus, lips a whisper away from your hairline. “Gets to be a bit much, yeah?”

“I guess.” You sigh again, almost frustratedly. “Sorry, it’s not like I’ve never been to a party before. I don’t get why I did that.”

“You don’t get to be sorry,” Sirius says lightly. He drops a kiss above your knee. “The only person who should be sorry is Michael, when the fire department shows up here because he’s got too many people in his fucking one-bedroom apartment.”

“You tell ‘im.” You sound exhausted. Your head weighs heavy on Remus’ shoulder.

He touches his lips to your hairline. “You feeling ready to call it a night?”

You hum. “I could be, but I’m also okay with sticking around if you guys want to.”

“Oh, my sweetheart.” Sirius surges upward, hugging you around the middle. His nose nuzzles your shoulder, and you smile tiredly, patting him on the back. “You can’t stay here for us after all that. Fuck, I don’t think either of us want to stick around, either.”

“No,” Remus agrees. “This crowd is horrid. I’m ready to go home.”

“I’m ready for pajamas, and cuddles, and” —Sirius’ voice grows muffled as he mushes kisses into your neck— “our soft, soft bed.”

“You make it sound quite nice,” you say, smiling for real now. “I guess I could call it quits for the night. Twist my arm.”

“Yeah, I won’t be hearing any arguments. I want to go home, and you carousers can’t stop me.” Sirius plants a final, firm kiss on your cheek, grinning too.

“It’s going to be a bit of work to get through to the door,” says Remus. He brushes his thumb gently over the place Sirius’ lips had touched, chest warm with affection. “Once you’re feeling up to it, we can go.”

“Oh.” You turn your head to look in through the window at the densely packed apartment. “Do you think we can take a few minutes out here first?”

“Course, sweetheart.” Remus kisses your head, easing it back down onto his shoulder. “Take all the time you need.”

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goldfades · 4 months ago

Text

WHO DID THIS TO YOU?──RAFE CAMERON

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

for this request, for my lovely jo! @wanderlusturous

─ summary | you and rafe are consumed by an obsessive love, where their madness is fueled by each other. you find exhilaration in pushing boundaries, testing each other’s limits, and the deeper you fall into your shared insanity, the tighter your bond becomes. when rafe finds you crying in your bedroom one day, he loses his shit and is thrown into a silent rage, seeking revenge. and you don't mind, not one bit.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x fem!reader

─ warnings | oh my god, where do i even begin?? obsessive rafe, like insane but reader reciprocates it. a few kisses but mostly just insane stuff. mention of drugging (not to reader), hacking (?), idk what else but this is lowkey insane...

─ ev's notes | im gonna be honest, i don't know if i like this... but lmk if yall enjoyed it. it's a little too dark-themed for me and i got into it until i reread it and realized that it was lowkey insane but hey!!! whatever!!! anyway, pls lmk if this was too dark.. or if you enjoyed it. also, sorry to any becca's out there, it was just the first name that popped up. any feedback is always very appreciated!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

The night is suffocating, thick with tension that mirrors the pulse racing in your veins. Every sound, every breath, seems amplified, as if the world knows what’s coming. You stand by the dock, your eyes on the dark water ahead, but your thoughts are elsewhere—on him.

Rafe.

You can already feel him, even when he’s not here. The way your skin hums when you think of him, the way your pulse skips in sync with his name. No one gets you like Rafe does. No one makes you feel like the world is spinning off its axis just by looking at you. He’s chaos, destruction wrapped in a pretty face, and you... you crave it.

The roar of an engine breaks through the night. You don’t turn, but a slow smile curls on your lips. You feel the heat of his presence before you even hear his footsteps.

“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Rafe’s voice is a low drawl, but there’s something manic beneath it, something that sparks against the madness in you.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his eyes. There’s that look again. That wild, possessive look that sets your blood on fire. He’s close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him, feel the tension in the air tighten like a noose around your neck.

“Neither could you,” you reply, your voice low, daring.

He grins, a sharp, dangerous thing. “You’re right. I can’t.”

His fingers brush your arm, just a ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to ignite something violent between you. This—this is what you live for. The thrill. The madness. The way Rafe looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him sane, and maybe that’s what scares you the most.

Because you’re not sane.

Not anymore.

You can’t even remember why you broke up with him a few months ago, but all you know is that it got overwhelming. There was something suffocating about it—about him. The way he always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were thinking before you even said it. At first, it was intoxicating, the way he could read you like no one else ever could, like you were the only two people on earth and no one else mattered. But then… it was too much. His intensity felt like drowning in quicksand, slow but relentless. And for a moment, just a moment, you thought maybe you needed air.

But standing here now, with the salt stinging your nostrils and the wind howling like some kind of omen, you can’t remember why you ever thought you could leave him.

Because there he is—Rafe Cameron, walking toward you like the world is his and you’re his prize, eyes locked on you in a way that makes your chest tighten, your stomach coil in knots. He’s dangerous in all the ways that matter. Not just because he’s reckless and violent (though God knows he is), but because of how he makes you feel. Alive, in a way that hurts. Like the rush you get standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing one wrong step and it’s all over, but you can’t stop yourself from leaning forward, just to feel the thrill of almost falling.

He doesn’t stop walking until he’s so close you can smell the gasoline and smoke on his clothes, the wild energy pouring off him in waves. He looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters, like you’re the oxygen he’s been deprived of for too long, and suddenly it all makes sense again. The madness. The break-up. The inevitable pull back to him.

“Why’d you leave me?” His voice is low, rough like gravel. His eyes burn with something fierce, and you can feel it sinking into you, clawing its way under your skin. He’s not asking because he doesn’t know. He’s asking because he wants to hear you say it.

You stare at him, heart pounding, pulse thrumming in your ears like a warning. But instead of stepping back, you step forward, closing the small gap between you two. Your breath mingles with his, the night air thick with unsaid things, and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something irreversible. Like if you take one more step, there’s no going back.

But isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? The danger. The thrill. The sick, twisted excitement of being so intertwined with him that you forget where he ends and you begin.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, even though that’s not the full truth. You do know. You left because you were scared. Scared of how much you wanted him, needed him, even when it hurt. Scared of the fact that the line between love and obsession blurred so fast with him that you couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

His jaw tightens, and his hands, those rough, calloused hands that have touched you in ways no one else ever has, reach out. He grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and for a moment, you swear you can see the wild, unhinged thing lurking just behind his eyes. It’s the same thing you see in yourself when you look in the mirror. The madness that ties you to him, binds you like a curse.

“You do know,” he says, voice dark and demanding. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, slow, like he’s testing how far he can push you before you break. “You just won’t say it.”

A shiver runs down your spine, but it’s not fear. It’s something else, something deeper. Something that feels like surrender and power all at once. You lean into his touch, letting his hand curl around the side of your face, the heat of him soaking into your skin like a drug.

“I couldn’t handle it,” you admit, the words thick and heavy in your throat. “You. Us. It was too much.”

Rafe’s lips curl into a smirk, but it’s not a kind one. It’s dark, possessive. “Too much? You know you liked it. You loved it.” His hand tightens slightly on your jaw, just enough for you to feel the edge of his control, like he’s reminding you who he is. What he is. “You loved me because of how fucked up we are. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

You swallow hard, heart thundering in your chest, because deep down, you know he’s right. You’ve never felt more alive than when you were with him, caught up in the madness of it all. The fights, the passion, the way you both pushed each other to the edge and then pulled each other back, only to do it all over again. It was twisted, dangerous, and wrong in every way, but that’s what made it irresistible.

“I did,” you confess, and it’s like a weight lifts off your chest, even as you feel yourself falling back into him, back into the chaos. “I do.”

The smirk fades, replaced by something darker, hungrier. His eyes search yours, looking for any sign of hesitation, any crack in your resolve. But there’s nothing. You’re not the same person who left him. Maybe you never really left at all.

Rafe’s hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips hover just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, and before you can respond, his mouth crashes into yours, hard and demanding.

It’s not gentle. It’s never been gentle with Rafe. His kiss is all teeth and tongue, like he’s trying to devour you, claim you all over again. And you let him, because deep down, you crave it just as much as he does. The fire, the chaos, the way he makes you feel like you’re spinning out of control but somehow exactly where you’re supposed to be.

When he pulls back, you’re both breathing hard, your lips swollen, your pulse racing like you’ve just run a marathon. His hands grip your waist now, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the heat of his body searing into yours.

“Tell me,” he says, voice low and dangerous, his eyes boring into yours. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, but you don’t hesitate. “I’m yours.” And you are, completely, utterly, unashamedly his.

And just like that, you’re back where you started.

───MONTHS LATER . . .

“God fucking damn it, if you don't tell me right now, I'm gonna lose my shit!” Rafe shouts, his voice cracking like thunder in the small living room as he throws the beer bottle against the wall.

Glass shatters everywhere, scattering across the floor, but you don’t even flinch. You’ve seen this before. Hell, you’ve lived it. The rage, the temper, the chaos—it's like a script you’ve both memorized by heart.

You lean back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching him like you would a caged animal—wild and unpredictable. He’s pacing now, his movements sharp and erratic, the muscles in his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if they might snap. His eyes are wild, blue like ice but burning with something untamable, something dangerous. He’s teetering on the edge, that fine line between fury and desperation, and you know it won’t take much to push him over.

But you don’t care. Not right now.

“Rafe, calm the fuck down,” you say, your voice steady, almost bored. You know that’ll get to him. It always does. Nothing makes him crazier than when you don’t give him the reaction he’s fishing for.

His head snaps in your direction, eyes narrowing as he stalks toward you like a predator honing in on prey. He stops just inches away, towering over you, his chest heaving, breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. He’s so close now that you can smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the heat radiating off his skin. But you don’t move. You stand your ground, looking up at him with a calm that borders on defiance.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” he spits, voice laced with venom. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, knuckles white. “I’m sick of your bullshit! You think you can just stand there like you’re better than me, like you’re not a part of this, but guess what, baby? You are. You always have been.”

You tilt your head slightly, eyes narrowing as a slow smile creeps across your lips. “You’re being dramatic, Rafe,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “What, you gonna break something else? Or are you actually gonna say what’s bothering you for once?”

That does it.

He slams his hands down on the counter behind you, trapping you between his arms, his face just inches from yours. His eyes blaze with fury, but beneath it, you see something else—something raw, something that makes your stomach twist in knots.

“Don’t play games with me,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “I know what you’re doing. You think you can just push me around, mess with my head, and I’ll keep coming back like a fucking dog, huh?”

You meet his gaze, unblinking, heart racing in your chest but refusing to show it. You can feel the tension crackling between you like electricity, the air thick with it, suffocating. This is what it always comes down to with Rafe—this toxic push and pull, this need to break each other just to see what’s left after the pieces fall apart.

“You think I’m the one messing with your head?” you say, your voice low, challenging. “Maybe you should take a look in the mirror, Rafe. You’re not exactly innocent in this, are you?”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he’s going to explode. But instead, he just stares at you, eyes flickering with something dark, something primal. Then, slowly, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

“Innocent?” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. “Baby, I’ve never claimed to be innocent. You knew exactly who I was when you got into this.”

You don’t flinch. You don’t pull back. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your lips grazing the corner of his jaw as you whisper back, “Yeah, and that’s why I’m not scared of you.”

His breath hitches, just for a second, and you feel a surge of satisfaction. You’ve always known how to push his buttons, how to throw him off balance, even when he’s at his most dangerous. It’s a game you’ve played a thousand times before, and you both know how it ends—chaotic, messy, with both of you circling back to the same place.

But this time feels different.

There’s something darker in the way he’s looking at you, something that feels more like possession than anger. Like he’s not just mad because you’re fighting—he’s mad because he can’t stand the thought of you slipping away. Because he knows, deep down, that no matter how hard you push him, he’ll always want you. Need you.

“You don’t get to walk away from me,” Rafe says, his voice low, deadly. “Not this time.”

You feel his grip tighten on the counter behind you, his body pressing against yours as if he’s trying to fuse the two of you together, like if he holds on tight enough, you won’t be able to escape. But he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand that you’re already too far gone. That the very thing he’s holding on to is slipping through his fingers, and there’s nothing either of you can do about it.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” you say softly, a cold smile on your lips. “I can walk away whenever I want. I just choose not to.”

And with that, you duck under his arm, slipping out from between him and the counter. His eyes follow you, wide with disbelief, rage bubbling just beneath the surface. You know he’s about to lose it, to completely unravel. But you don’t turn back. Not yet.

Because this time, you want him to come after you.

And he always does.

Rafe’s eyes darken as you slip past him, and for a moment, the room goes deadly silent. The tension is thick, heavy like a storm cloud waiting to burst. You know exactly what’s coming, and it sends a thrill down your spine. You can almost feel it—the moment he snaps, the second his control shatters. It’s a twisted game, one you’ve played too many times before, and every time, you push him a little harder, a little further, just to see how far he’ll go for you.

You take slow, deliberate steps toward the door, your back turned to him, feeling the heat of his gaze sear into you. You don’t need to look back to know he’s watching, every muscle in his body tensed like a predator stalking its prey. The air feels electric, charged with a violence that’s always been just beneath the surface between you two.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp and biting. You stop, but you don’t turn around. Not yet.

“Does it matter?” you ask, voice calm, almost teasing. “I thought I could walk away whenever I wanted, remember?”

The silence that follows is deafening. You know you’ve hit a nerve. He hates when you challenge him, hates when you act like you have the upper hand. But that’s what makes it so addictive—pushing him to his limit, watching him unravel in front of you, knowing that no matter how hard he fights it, he’ll always come back to you.

Because he can’t help it. Neither of you can.

Suddenly, you hear his footsteps behind you, fast and heavy, and before you can react, his hand grips your arm, yanking you back toward him with a force that nearly knocks the breath out of you. He spins you around, his face inches from yours, eyes blazing with fury.

“You’re not fucking going anywhere,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. His grip tightens on your arm, fingers digging into your skin, but the pain only makes your pulse quicken, your breath hitch in your throat. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s on the verge of losing control, like he’s barely holding himself together—that sends a thrill through you.

“Let go of me, Rafe,” you say, your voice daring him, even though you know you don’t really want him to.

He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you closer, his other hand gripping the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. His chest is heaving, his eyes wild, but there’s something else there, too—something desperate, like he’s terrified of losing you, like he’s clinging to you with everything he has left.

“You think you can just walk away?” he snarls, his breath hot against your face. “After everything? After all the shit we’ve been through? You really think I’m just gonna let you go?”

You meet his gaze, unblinking, your heart racing, but there’s no fear. Not with him. There never is. Instead, you feel the pull again—the twisted, sick need to see how far you can push him, how deep his obsession goes.

“I think you don’t have a choice,” you say, your voice steady, even though your pulse is hammering in your ears.

His grip tightens, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles twitching beneath his skin. For a second, you think he’s going to snap—really snap—but then, just as quickly, something shifts in his expression. The anger doesn’t fade, but it’s joined by something darker, something raw and consuming.

“You’re wrong,” he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with danger. “You don’t get to decide when this ends. I do.”

Before you can react, his lips crash against yours, rough and demanding, as if he’s trying to prove a point. It’s not a kiss; it’s a claim, a reminder that you belong to him, whether you want to admit it or not. His hands tighten on you, pulling you impossibly closer, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely restrained violence simmering just beneath the surface.

But instead of pulling away, you kiss him back with just as much fire, matching his intensity. It’s always been like this between you two—this chaotic, messy whirlwind of emotion that neither of you can control. You push, he pulls, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you find something that feels like love, even though you both know it’s something darker, something more dangerous.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, your lips swollen and bruised. His hand stays on the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that’s both possessive and tender, like he’s reminding himself that you’re still here, still his.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice rough, eyes blazing as he stares down at you. “You’ve always been mine.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. There’s a part of you that wants to fight it, to push him away and run as far as you can. But there’s a bigger part of you, a darker part, that knows he’s right.

You’re his. You always have been.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m yours.”

The words hang in the air between you, thick and heavy, and for a moment, everything else falls away. The anger, the tension, the broken glass on the floor—it’s all background noise now. All that matters is the two of you, standing here in this twisted, fucked-up mess of a relationship, knowing that no matter how many times you try to break free, you’ll always end up right back here.

With him.

Rafe’s grip on you softens, just slightly, and for the first time in what feels like hours, the intensity in his eyes eases. But it’s still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the next time one of you decides to test the limits again. Because there will be a next time. There always is.

“You’re not leaving me again,” he says, his voice softer now, but no less serious. “Not ever.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Because deep down, you know that no matter how much you might want to, no matter how many times you tell yourself you can walk away, you won’t.

You never could.

And Rafe knows it, too.

───

You don’t usually cry. Not ever. Tears are something you’ve learned to bury deep down, hidden under layers of indifference and biting sarcasm. But tonight, they come, hot and angry, streaming down your face as you sit curled up on the edge of the bed, hands trembling in your lap. The weight of the evening presses down on you, your mind reeling from everything that happened.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not tonight.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand, but you ignore it. You can’t deal with it right now. You don’t want to see the messages or hear the apologies. You don’t want to relive what just went down.

You wipe at your face roughly, trying to pull yourself together, but it’s no use. The shaky breath you let out only betrays you further, and you feel the tears well up again. You bite your lip to keep from making a sound, not wanting him to hear you.

But, of course, Rafe hears everything.

The door swings open, and Rafe steps inside, his broad frame filling the doorway. He looks at you, really looks at you, and in an instant, his expression darkens. His blue eyes narrow as they sweep over you, taking in the tear-streaked face, the hunched shoulders, the way your body is wound tight like a coiled spring, ready to snap. His jaw tightens, and you can practically feel the shift in the air around him.

“What happened?” His voice is low, dangerous, barely restrained. It’s not a question—it’s a demand.

You shake your head, trying to brush it off. “It’s nothing, Rafe. Just forget it.”

But you know better than to think he’ll let it go. The second you met him, you realized Rafe Cameron isn’t the kind of guy who “forgets” anything.

He moves closer, the tension in his body palpable. He’s not pacing like he usually does when he’s angry. This is different. Controlled. Focused. Like he’s honing in on the source of your pain, ready to eliminate it. He crouches down in front of you, one hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. His touch is firm, possessive, but not rough—not yet.

“Tell me what happened,” he says again, his eyes boring into yours. “Who did this to you?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up. You know how Rafe gets—how he reacts when someone hurts you. And this time, it wasn’t just anyone. It was someone close. Someone you thought was your friend.

“It’s—” You start, but your voice cracks, and you quickly bite down, trying to steady yourself. “It was…Becca.”

“Becca?” The name drops like a lead weight between you two, and you can see the recognition flare in his eyes. Becca, your friend for years, the one person outside of him you’ve always trusted. The one person he’s always been wary of.

Rafe’s grip tightens slightly, his thumb brushing over your jaw in a way that makes your pulse race. His voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper. “What did she do?”

You hesitate, but the words spill out before you can stop them. “She—she said some things. At the party tonight. She called me out in front of everyone, said I was using you, that I only stuck around for the money, the attention. She tried to turn everyone against me, Rafe. She made me look… weak.”

His face hardens instantly, and for a split second, you see something flash in his eyes—something dark and lethal. The kind of rage that makes your breath catch in your throat, even though you know it’s not directed at you.

“She said what?” His voice is so low now, it’s almost a growl.

You nod, swallowing hard, feeling the burn of humiliation all over again. “I don’t know why she did it. I thought she was my friend.”

Rafe lets out a slow breath, and the air around him feels like it’s vibrating with the intensity of his anger. He stands up abruptly, pacing the room, running a hand through his hair as if trying to keep himself from completely losing it. But you know it’s too late for that.

“I’ll fucking kill her,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear every word. “I’ll ruin her life.”

“Rafe—” You start to protest, but he cuts you off with a sharp look.

“No. No one talks to you like that. Not her, not anyone.” His voice is clipped, sharp, like he’s barely holding back the full force of what he’s feeling. “You don’t deserve this shit. Not from her, not from anyone.”

His protectiveness borders on obsession, but you can’t help but feel a strange comfort in it. It’s twisted, but there’s something about the way Rafe reacts to these things—like the whole world can burn as long as you’re safe—that makes you feel… seen. Important.

“I’m going to fix this,” he says, more to himself than to you, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “She thinks she can talk shit about you? In front of everyone? Humiliate you? Nah. She’s going to regret it. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Rafe,” you say softly, trying to reach for him, but he’s too far gone. You can see it in the way his eyes have glazed over, already plotting, already deciding exactly how he’s going to destroy Becca.

And part of you wants to stop him. Part of you knows that this isn’t the answer, that maybe you should handle it differently, like a normal person would.

But you’re not normal. Not anymore.

“I’m serious,” he says, turning to face you again, his expression deadly serious. “No one fucks with you. Ever.”

His intensity washes over you, and for a second, you feel like you can’t breathe. But at the same time, it fills you with a sense of power, knowing that he’s willing to go to these lengths for you. That he’ll protect you at all costs, no matter how destructive it gets.

You stand up slowly, crossing the room until you’re in front of him, your hand resting on his chest. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Rafe’s eyes flicker down to you, and for a brief moment, you see a softness there, a flicker of the boy beneath all the rage and chaos. “I won’t. But I’m not letting this go.”

You nod, knowing there’s no point in arguing with him. This is who he is—who you both are. Twisted, obsessive, reckless. But it works. Somehow, it works. And deep down, you don’t really want him to let it go.

A few months later, and somehow everything goes to shit for Becca.

It starts small—things that could almost pass as bad luck. First, her new car gets keyed, deep scratches across the side that no amount of buffing can fix. Then her social media accounts get hacked, posts disappearing, weird comments being left on other people’s pages, like someone is deliberately screwing with her life piece by piece. She brushes it off at first, because Becca’s tough. She’s the type of girl who bounces back quickly, who doesn’t let things get under her skin.

But then things escalate. Quickly.

She gets benched during a big volleyball game when her coach suddenly pulls her aside and questions her attitude. The team captain claims Becca’s been talking shit about the coach behind her back, stirring up drama with teammates. The problem is, Becca never said any of it. But now, she’s got a reputation, and people are starting to look at her differently.

Still, she fights through it, determined not to let it get to her. Becca’s always had her eye on the prize: her full ride to UC Berkeley, where she’s set to play volleyball at the college level. That’s her future. Her escape. Nothing can touch that.

Until it does.

The call comes one morning, out of nowhere. Becca’s shaking as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line, her heart plummeting as her coach tells her the news.

“We’ve received the results of your recent drug test, Becca,” the coach says, his voice stern but somehow apologetic. “I’m sorry, but you’ve tested positive for a banned substance.”

Becca’s head spins, her mouth going dry. “That’s impossible,” she blurts out, panic rising in her chest. “I don’t do drugs. I don’t—”

“I know this is hard to hear,” the coach cuts her off, his voice firm. “But the results are what they are. This disqualifies you from the scholarship and the team. UC Berkeley has revoked your offer.”

The words hit her like a sledgehammer. She feels the ground tilt beneath her, everything she’s worked for slipping through her fingers in an instant. She argues, pleads, tries to explain, but the decision is final. There’s nothing she can do.

And that’s when she starts to see it, to feel the weight of something much bigger pressing down on her. This isn’t just bad luck. It’s not a coincidence that her life is unraveling at the seams. No, this feels orchestrated, like someone’s been pulling the strings behind the scenes, watching her fall apart.

That someone is Rafe Cameron.

Rafe can be physical—he wouldn’t hesitate to swing on anyone he deems a threat. But Rafe isn’t a dumbass. He knows that not everything should be dealt with by violence. Some things are better handled with precision, with patience, with slow, deliberate destruction. He knew that punching Becca in the face wouldn’t satisfy him, wouldn’t give him the kind of control he wanted over the situation.

So instead, he used his connections, his money, his influence, all of the tools at his disposal to dismantle her life bit by bit. A hacked account here, a few whispers to the right people there. He didn’t need to lay a finger on her to destroy her. He just needed to plant the seeds of doubt, to set off a chain reaction, and then watch it all come crumbling down.

The drug test? Easy. A little slip of something into her drink at a party when she wasn’t paying attention, followed by a tip-off to the testing agency. The rumors about her trash-talking her coach? Carefully spread by a few well-placed texts to her teammates, pretending to be her. Her social media? That was just for fun, a way to throw her off balance and make her feel like her world was spiraling.

And it worked.

You know all of this, of course. Rafe never bothers to hide things from you. In fact, he’s proud of it, proud of the way he’s dismantled Becca’s life without so much as breaking a sweat. He tells you about it one night while you’re lying together, his arm draped lazily over your waist as he whispers in your ear.

“She thought she could fuck with you,” he murmurs, his voice dark, satisfied. “But now she knows. No one touches what’s mine.”

You should feel guilty. You should feel something for Becca, after all those years of friendship, of thinking she had your back. But all you can feel is a sick sense of satisfaction, like the universe has finally corrected itself. Becca messed with the wrong person, and now she’s paying the price. And as twisted as it is, you can’t help but feel a little thrill at how far Rafe was willing to go for you, how meticulously he destroyed her without you even asking him to.

“You really did all that?” you ask, your voice low, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Rafe shifts beside you, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your neck. “I told you, baby. No one fucks with you and gets away with it.”

You turn your head to meet his gaze, and there’s something dangerous in the way he looks at you, something possessive and wild. It should scare you, but it doesn’t. Not anymore.

Because the truth is, you like it. You like how far he’s willing to go for you, how far he’s willing to take it. There’s something intoxicating about the way he loves you—twisted, obsessive, and all-consuming. It’s not healthy, not normal, but it’s yours. And that’s enough.

You press your lips to his, kissing him fiercely, feeling the heat between you two ignite once again. Rafe kisses you back just as hard, his hands gripping you tightly, like he’s reminding you that you’re his and no one else’s.

As you pull back, your breath ragged, you glance at him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“She won’t come near me again.”

“No,” Rafe says, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. “She won’t.”

And in that moment, you both know it’s true. Becca’s done.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #obx 4 #outer banks 4

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coffee-and-tea-time · 8 months ago

Text

HEAR ME OUT: A LIMINAL SPACE BUT YANDERE

…we seem to have drifted from our original plans with this account-

I call dibs on the dilf then

No, back off, he's mine🤺

Word count: 1.6k (the very first long post) (subtle brag)

TW: hinted yandere behavior but soft since it's the introduction, monster/non-human, written in you/yours, don't expect it to make much sense it's a liminal space that we created with things that came along the way and a bit of the backrooms wiki, human! reader is confused but interested (willing? Mostly confused)

“ugh… What time is it?”

You go grab your phone, annoyed that your stomach managed to wake you up. Maybe you really do need to eat something before trying to go back to sleep, though it's too comfy being in the warmth of the blankets… still, a loud grumble from your belly ruined your plans, with no other option left, you sight and reluctantly got out of bed with your phone in hand, however, as you were making your way to go to the kitchen, you heard the distinctive ping of your phone's notifications which made you turn around to see… you have your phone in hand, why is there a replica of your phone on your bed?

You get closer, thinking it's surely something else and your eyes deceived you because of the dim lighting, when you grab that second ‘phone’ you got even more confused, is a perfect replica of your own, you even compared them both side to side wondering if you finally went insane but you didn’t get enough time to question your sanity as you start to feel extremely dizzy, like everything around you is spinning around so damn fast you can't even tell if you were the one moving or see properly at all, you close your eyes in hopes that it will prevent you from getting nauseous.

"Why is feeling so fucking chilly?"

You said in a shiver as you feel yourself fall, this time you know you are really moving, why? Because your face hits the snowy ground… Snowy ground?

You move yourself a little too fast for a person that just kissed the ground with so much force, all you can see around you is softly falling snow through what looks like a residential street.

The night sky a little too black, there were no lights that you could clearly see from just a swift look around, no stars, and… no clouds, the sky was pitch black, yet the houses were illuminated with a slight glow from moonlight even as the moon was nowhere in sight.

The place was eerie to say the least, the overwhelming quietness of it all almost a warning of danger. There were no sounds of people, no distant murmurs of far away conversation, no barks from pets, no chirping of shivering birds.

This place is nothing like any place you've ever been in but it still gives you a nostalgic feeling.

What can you do to return to your home?

You start walking, maybe you should knock on a house with the lights on? It can be dangerous but there aren't a lot of options, one thing is sure, when you return home, you're gonna go to the hospital for a check-up, mental or physical? You aren't sure yet.

You thoughts were stopped when you catch a silhouette not so far away, seems the darkness makes it hard to see properly, but it's seems like the shadow of a little girl making a snowman, the sight relieves you somewhat and you decide to approach, asking the little girl is far more secure that knocking on randoms doors.

"Excuse me, little miss! It seems like I got lost, is there an adult with you that can tell me which street this is?"

You said out loud, it seems like the little one hears you when she tilts her head a little and moves her arms around cutely, the girl seems eager for you to come closer although you can't really tell if she is looking at you or not, it's odd, even as you get closer, you still see a shadow more than a child.

And then, you feel a soft and cold touch on top of your head, the faint snowing plus the silence makes you feel like you could hear as the soft snowflakes fell around you, like your sense of hearing heightened from the sheer lack of any other sounds.

That being said, you couldn't help but jump when the loud sound of the door opening abruptly met your ears and even more when you hear like somebody is running behind you, you quickly look back but all you can see is snow and darkness.

You return your gaze to the child, and got even more taken aback to find a shadow shaped like a abnormally tall man with horns sticking out of the dark smoke that seems to shape his 'hair' in front of you, and in the blink of an eye, you were picked up by 'him', he ran faster that you ever thought was possible, before you can even breathe, you already were inside of a house still in the man's arms, his hands under your armpits cupping you up like a soggy cat.

You try not to panic, as you let your eyes inspect the place, only one thing is sure: if it is dangerous, it is better not to test his patience, horror movies taught you better than that.

You feel something really cold hugging your leg, you gaze slowly going downwards only to find what you think is the little girl you saw earlier… seems like your eyes didn’t trick you before, it is in fact, a silhouette, a pitch black outline of a child.

What in the world is going on?

Well, at least they seem to understand you, the little one let go of your leg and gestured, trying to explaining you everything with charades, you would find it very lovable and adorable in any other occasion; your focus on the kid quickly interrupted by the man's hold of you shifting, his hands coiling around you and pressing you to his chest in what felt like a hug, your feet don't even touch the ground, you can feel thought your pajamas the cold emanating from his.. body? Well, unlike his gastly looking hair, the rest of his body did feel more solid, seems like even shadows can have a sleeper build…

Wait, what?

Before you can think of anything else, your stomach growls, right, you were about to fetch yourself some food before you ended up here, though, their reaction to the grumble of your stomach amused you, how the tiny blank eyes of the little girl widened, them both freezing in a second of shock before the man ran again with you in his arms.

You can sense the toddler running after you two as the man runs into what seems like a rather luxurious kitchen, your bare feet finally meet the rather warm floor again although you still don't have time to relax as the shadow man tries to hurriedly feed you a spoonful of baking powder.

“I’m sorry but I can’t eat that…”

You anxiously try to explain why you can’t just eat baking powder, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way and lucky for you, he seems more concerned than anything, his.. mouth? twitches making more of a weary expression, at least you think so as he hurried to open all of the cabinets and even the fridge, letting you look through everything to search for something you could actually eat.

You sense a gentle tug on your pajama's shirt, when you look down, you were met with the little girl shyly offering you a fruit that you can actually eat, so you gladly accept it, you can’t help but find the shadow duo cute as they start cheering between themselves, seemingly celebrating that they found something that you can eat, you kind of want to take a photo but well, you don’t have your phone and probably if you had it, you would be calling for help rather than recording cute moments.

You start to relax on the chair as you eat, the adrenaline slowly wearing off of your body and with that comes the pain, right, you slammed on the ground a few minutes ago, you feel your body between a state of numbness and pain, you can't help but to winche because of that, which make the duo approach you again quickly.

“Sorry, i-is nothing, I just… need some sleep”

You come up with a quick excuse, even though they are weirdly kind and seems harmless, just in case, it's better to avoid mentioning any injury or damage since you still don't 100% trust how they'd react, you trust the outside even less though. Your mind plays back to that running you heard behind you before the shadowy man took you away, the memory still sending shivers down your spine. To escape from them without proper knowledge of how things work here sounds dumb.

As you were lost in thought, the tall man scooped you up once again, this time his cold touch felt gentler than before, you start to wonder if he sees you as a cat of some sort but there is no use in asking since these creatures don't seem like they know how to speak.

He walked you upstairs into what seemed like the master bedroom and gently tucked you into the bed with a soft pat on your head, you start to sense that these shadows love being affectionate, a little touchy feely; Maybe is the contrast of his cold body with your warmer human body, you can’t really blame him, the smoke that he has for hair seems really soft to the touch too…

For better or for worse, he stood up straight again and start checking the lock on the windows, making sure they were well covered, only opening the door to invite the child in, who quickly layed besides you handing you a little book, a bedtime story, with a smile, You find endearing the fact they so eagerly want to hear a story, but a chill runs to your spine when you hear the tall man locking the door and then laying down on the other side of the bed beside you.

The night ends up peacefully although the exhaustion wins over your sense of self preservation, you slowly drifting off to sleep after reading the story to the little girl.

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

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dreaminguponlilypads · 4 days ago

Text

NOISE.

Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader with autism

disc: i dont have autism myself so apologies in advance if i got anything wrong! pls comment if i did!

Simon wasn’t good with words. He never had been. But he knew how to see things—patterns, tells, the little details most people ignored. That was why, when he came home to find you curled up on the couch, hood pulled over your head, hands fidgeting with the drawstrings, he didn’t ask what’s wrong?

He already knew.

The day had been too much. Maybe the noise, the people, the expectations—whatever it was, it had drained you down to nothing. You hadn’t even turned on the lights.

Ghost—no, Simon, here in the quiet of home—moved carefully. He set his gear down without a sound, then toed off his boots before making his way to you. He didn’t force touch, didn’t push. Instead, he sat down beside you, close but not crowding, waiting.

After a moment, you shifted, pressing your shoulder into his. He took that as permission, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you in.

“Noisy day?” he murmured against your hair.

You nodded, your fingers still restless. He reached down, caught one of your hands in his. He didn’t stop you from stimming, just laced his fingers through yours, letting you know he was there. Solid. Real. Safe.

“I got you,” he muttered. And you knew he meant it.

With Simon, you didn’t have to explain why the world exhausted you. You didn’t have to justify needing quiet, or why the texture of his hoodie was the only thing grounding you right now. He just knew.

And that was enough.

You breathed in slowly, the familiar scent of Simon’s jacket—gunpowder, soap, him—filling your senses. His thumb traced slow circles over your knuckles, grounding without overwhelming, never rushing you.

“Anything I can do?” he asked, voice low, careful.

You shook your head, still tucked into his side. “Just this.”

He hummed, a sound you’d come to recognize as understanding. No pressure, no need for you to explain. The weight of his arm around you was enough, steady and warm.

Minutes passed like that, quiet and still, until the worst of the overstimulation ebbed. Your fingers relaxed slightly in his grip, your breathing evened out.

Simon noticed. Of course he did.

“Yeah?” he murmured, tilting his head to look at you.

You nodded. He squeezed your hand once before shifting. “C’mon.”

You let him pull you up, following without question as he led you to the kitchen. He didn’t turn on the harsh overhead light, just flicked on the small one above the stove—soft, warm, easy on your senses.

He knew. He always knew.

“You ate today?” he asked, opening the fridge.

You hesitated. That was answer enough.

With a quiet sigh, he pulled out your comfort food—something simple, something safe, something he’d bought because he knew days like this happened. As he started preparing it, you hovered beside him, not quite ready to let go of the warmth of his presence.

Simon didn’t mind. He never did.

“You want to help or just sit with me?” he asked, glancing over.

You considered, then mumbled, “Just be here.”

He nodded once, no questions, no teasing. Just understanding.

And as the quiet hum of the kitchen filled the space, as the worst of the day melted away in the presence of the one person who got you, you realized something—

Home wasn’t just a place. It was a person.

And for you, that person was him.

After eating, the weight in your chest had lessened, the overstimulation still there but dulled to something manageable. You yawned, rubbing at your eyes as Simon cleaned up without a word.

He never asked you to do more than you could handle—just nudged a glass of water toward you with a pointed look, knowing you’d forget otherwise.

When you were both ready for bed, Simon didn’t turn on the bright ceiling light in the bedroom. Instead, he flicked on the small lamp by your side of the bed, warm and dim. The small things—the things no one else noticed—he always did.

You climbed into bed, instantly cocooning yourself under the blankets. Simon, ever patient, took his time. He sat on the edge of the mattress, unlacing his boots with methodical care. The quiet was comfortable, broken only by the soft rustling of fabric.

As he pulled off his hoodie, you reached out, fingers brushing against the sleeve. A silent request.

He stilled for half a second before wordlessly handing it to you.

You tugged it over your head, letting the fabric swallow you whole. It was big, heavy, his. It smelled like him, the lingering scent of soap and gunpowder and warmth. Immediate comfort.

Simon turned, eyes scanning over you in the hoodie before shaking his head with the barest hint of amusement. He didn’t say anything, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, like he found you impossibly endearing.

“Comfy?” he muttered as he slid under the blankets beside you.

You nodded, shifting closer. You were still buzzing with leftover energy, mind running in loops despite the exhaustion weighing you down.

Simon noticed. Of course he did.

Without a word, he reached out, resting a broad, calloused hand against your back. A slow, steady pressure, grounding you without trapping you.

“Too much in your head?” he murmured.

You swallowed, nodding against his chest.

Simon exhaled softly, his fingers trailing absentmindedly up and down your spine. A repetitive motion, calming and predictable.

“Tell me,” he muttered. Not a demand. Just an invitation.

You hesitated, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. “Just… everything,” you admitted. “Noise. Expectations. Existing.”

His fingers stilled for half a second before continuing. “I get that,” he said quietly.

And he did. Maybe not in the exact same way, but he knew what it was like to be overwhelmed, to feel like the world expected too much. He’d never push you to explain more than you wanted to. Just this—just knowing he understood—was enough.

Simon shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. A rare, gentle thing.

“You’re alright,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “Got you.”

You closed your eyes, finally, finally allowing yourself to relax. The world outside could wait. Right now, you were safe.

Right now, you had him.

And that was enough.

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wachtelspinat · 2 months ago

Text

always wanted to post some australia photos so here they are before the year is coming to an end.

in order:

Mundi Mundi Lookout - Silverton, NSW

Hannans North Tourist Mine - Kalgoorlie-Boulder, WA

Tom's Opal Mine - Coober Pedy, SA

Karlkurla Bushland Park - Kalgoorlie-Boulder, WA

Kanku Breakaways - near Coober Pedy, SA

Rawnsley Bluff - Ikara-Flinders Ranges, SA

Echo Point - Blue Mountains, Katoomba, NSW

Head of Bight - Nullarbor Plain, Yalata, SA

Grand Canyon - Blue Mountains, Blackheath, NSW

also a little life update to anyone who's interested:

2024 has been a wild ride all around, and i feel a bit bad when i say that for me personally it had been a blast (except for today and this weekend: first my toilet flusher started being defect (ah yes, getting a mechanic the week before the holidays in germany, why would there be a problem), then a chunk of my phone screen stopped being touch sensitive, then half of my laptop's keyboard stopped working... and when i dared to ask what will break next... i landed a tremendous fall on my way to work today, with my bike and sudden glazed ice on the road, breaking my drawing elbow 👍).

BUT OTHER THAN THAT 2024 has been great in my books.

got laid off at work in march, which gave me the opportunity to do a roadtrip through australia, sth i would have never dreamed of doing on my own, of becoming true. this trip was life-changing y'all. it has altered my brain chemistry.

then i got back at work on part-time basis and holy shit, that was great. sadly i'm involved full-time again but this also made sth click in my head. and it gave me sth back that i've thought having lost last year: my will to draw. this sounds so overdramatic but some may remember my crisis in 2023 because i couldn't shake the thought of my drawing days being over due to work and life being so overwhelming? thank you so much again to each and everyone who left messages back then, it still means a lot, they really helped me to stay grounded during that time. but i'm also here to tell past-me "bitch! you thought you would never find fun and purpose in drawing again? think again!"

this also gave me the courage to apply for tabling again, something that i've long pushed away to the back of my mind bc i never felt confident enough. and what can i say, a friend of mine and me are gonna have a booth next year at leipzig bookfair <3

honourable mentions before it's getting too long: friends got the cutest new dog baby, iceland roadtrip with seeing polar lights for the first time, heidelberg zine fair with lots of crunch time beforehand but this also unlocked sth new in my brain, making zines is so much fun, lots of time again with friends and then... the last issue of the tf2 comic *bless.

thank you to everyone here who i met along the way, who interacts with my art and leaves incredible comments and tags, i love this site so much and its community, you all are wonderful people and i'm really happy that we all share this platform.

i'm wishing everyone who celebrates some nice holidays <333

#australia #personal

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chrissturnsfav · 7 days ago

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hellooo!! what would rapper!chris do if singer!reader got overwhelmed at a event/ red carpe and is having a hard time calming down?

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris always eases singer!reader's anxiety

the flashing lights are everywhere—white bursts burning into your vision, too fast and too bright to avoid. photographers shout your names like it’s a sport, each voice blending into a chaotic roar.

chris stands tall beside you, unfazed by the madness, his confident smirk on his lips. you, however, feel your chest tightening, breath hitching as the noise and crowd close in.

your fingers curl into the sequins of your dress, gripping tight like it’ll somehow ground you. your heart pounds in your ears, louder than the voices around you.

"you good, mama?" chris’s voice cuts through the chaos, low and smooth like it always is.

you blink up at him, trying to nod, but the movement feels stiff and unconvincing.

his smirk fades, replaced by something softer—something only you get to see. "nah," he says under his breath, "you ain’t good."

before you can argue, his hand finds yours, warm and steady. he pulls you closer, shielding you slightly from the relentless flashes.

"jus' breathe," he murmurs, leaning down so only you can hear. "in, out. slow, baby."

his voice is the only thing cutting through the static now, smooth and familiar, grounding you when the rest of the world feels like too much.

you stare at the line of his jaw, sharp under the bright lights, and focus on the rise and fall of his chest instead of the chaos swirling around you.

"ain’t shit out here that can touch you, kid," he says low, keeping that same protective calm. his breath tickles your ear, warm and steady, a comfort for you to follow when your own feels scattered.

his hand brushes against yours—not grabbing, not making a scene, just there if you need it. that simple gesture calms something chaotic inside you.

"you don’t gotta smile for these people if you don’t want to," he says, voice firm but easy. "let 'em take what they get."

that earns a small laugh from you, more breath than sound. "i thought you loved the cameras."

"nah," he drawls, eyes flicking toward the photographers with a faint smirk. "they love me."

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13 , @sturniolo101

@chrissturnsfav ™

#chrissturnsfav ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི #ᰔᩚ rapper!chris x singer!reader prompt #ᰔᩚ rapper!chris x singer!reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets x you

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lostintransist · 4 months ago

Text

Boys' Home - Part 3

Part 1 | AO3

Simon worked the rest of the day with the guys, hauling out as much junk and stripping back walls as much as they could before dark fell. They would be buying a generator and more tools the next time they were in town. The sun had started to dip in the sky. Before Soap and Gaz hopped in the car with Price to head for the hotel for the night he asked them to look into you.

“I’m staying back to observe tonight. I don’t like that a woman that young has four boys.”

Soap put up a hand before Gaz could ask the question clearly in his face.

“You got it. We will bring breakfast for you in the morning. Come on Gaz. Let’s go.”

Soap knew him well enough at this point to know that kids were a hard line for him. He would explain it to Gaz. Simon turned and jogged into the twilight stealing trees and followed the trail to the edge of your yard. He settled in until the darkness left the only light seeping from the windows.

He watched you in the kitchen, windows cracked to let a breeze through the old house.

A boy’s voice followed you around as you shifted and spun around the kitchen, presumably to get dinner ready. The fourth time you ran into the boy you yelled.

“Seth!”

The boy jumped and Simon straightened, ready to get involved. To his surprise, you covered your face with your hands and took three deep breaths. That done you moved your hands to your hips and looked at the boy.

“I am sorry for yelling at you, that wasn’t cool of me. I would love to listen to you but right now I need you out of the kitchen so I can finish getting dinner ready.” Simon is wary of your calm and even tone.

“But why did you have to yell at me?” The boy has tears in his voice.

You let out another breath and glance at the ceiling. “Do you remember how I told you that my parents hit me as a kid?”

“Yeah,” Seth sniffles.

“They also yelled at me. So sometimes when I get overwhelmed my brain does something that it thinks will fix the issue before I can get ahead of it.” You pause looking at the boy. When he nods you continue. “That is sometimes why I ask for space when I am angry because my brain is saying that hitting will make the problem stop but you and I both know that won’t fix it.”

“Right because that is not kind and hitting people makes bigger problems.”

“Correct. Now, can I sit down with you after dinner and listen to you tell me about your Minecraft world?”

“I guess.” Seth sounds dejected even from across the yard.

“Do you want a hug, a wave, or a high five?”

He sighs big, “A hug.”

You pull the boy in instantly, hugging the boy who reaches your shoulder tight. He returns the touch before disappearing further into the house. Simon watches you, narrowed in on the movements he can see from the distance he has.

Pulling your hair tie out of your hair you redo your bun, somehow making it look worse than before. Leaning both hands on the counter you talk to yourself.

“Okay, we only have a few more hours until bedtime. You can do this. You love your children. You will love them more in the morning when everyone has had some sleep.”

Distant plinks have your shoulders drooping in defeat. You turn to face the interior of the house and shout.

“Boys! You clean those marbles up! I told you to stop sending them down the stairs, that can break them!”

A chorus of ‘Sorry Mom’ reaches Simon’s ears. He doesn’t know what to think of you. Every opportunity for compliance via punishment with your children had been met with honesty and empathy. He wanted to walk away now, his skin stretched too tight across his bones.

Simon watched for hours. You bit back more yelling and apologized to more of the children while gently guiding them through their routine. Shower, brush teeth, bed, no you don’t care if you take a tablet to bed they will all turn off at ten, yes even in the summer. When at last the only lights on in the house belonged to the kitchen Simon watched you pour yourself a drink and slid into a chair just beyond the reach of the kitchen light.

You stared into the darkness, eyes sweeping over him again and again. When at last your glass is nearly empty you set it down to the side of your chair. Scrubbing your eyes you talk to yourself again.

“The first week is always the hardest. They will get back into the groove of summer soon. We are going to Costco tomorrow. That will help with their jitters out. We can get a Lego set and the muffins. Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. Hot dog and a drink for them and then they should pass out on the way home and play outside until dark so I can finish pulling the lathe out of the top room.”

You continued to mutter to yourself as you gather up your glass and head inside. Simon watches you drift through the house by the change of lights on the windows. When you finally settle he decides that must be your room.

Seeing no better option Simon turns the chair you had used to stare into the forest to face the house, settling in to doze for a few hours.

He opens his eyes because a light has turned on in the house. Must be a bathroom light, the small window positioned between the two rooms in use. After the light flicks off your shadow against the darkness traces through the house. After placing a basket on the back step you shut the door and head back to bed without turning on any lights.

Curious Simon lets you settle before he creeps up to the step. He smells it more than three steps away. One of the boys had peed the bed.

The only time he had ever felt this discombobulated before had been when as a boy he had been tossed from a horse. His grandfather’s neighbor had a horse in the field next to the house. No one had told Simon the old mare would rather murder than nurture. She sidled up the rock fence and let him climb on her back before taking off like her ass was on fire.

The wind had been knocked out of Simon and he stumbled home. Thinking about it now he is sure he had a concussion from how hard he hit the ground. He cuts off the train of thought before he has to relive the memory of his father coming to drag him and his mother back. That would be the last time she tried to leave her husband.

🍎🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏

Soap delivered on his promise of breakfast. Gaz brought a change of clothes and a pack of wet wipes. Price only delivered him a shake of the head before heading inside.

“What did you find out?” Simon asks as he wipes the back of his neck. He had already removed his shirt and would be cleaning himself up the best he could before starting another day of tearing out walls.

“She’s got a killer playlist,” Gaz offers.

He and Johnny both look at Kyle.

The man catches their stares.

“What? You said check her out, you can learn a lot about a person from their music choices.” He settled the new tool belt on his hips and continued, “She has all the kids legally, is listed as their legal guardian with the state. Can’t figure out how they ended up with her since none of them have original birth certificates, just delayed ones.”

“House was an inheritance, and she is a teacher at the local school like she said. She teaches science and auto shop.” Johnny adds. “What did you learn last night?”

Something in his stillness must alert them. Both men pause their respective tasks to look at him.

“She doesn’t hit them.”

Kyle and Johnny glance at each other before settling back on him.

“She apologizes when she yells. One of the kids wet the bed in the middle of the night. There was no screaming or hitting, took less than ten minutes to get the kid back to bed, and the laundry settled for later.”

Simon stretched his pecs before stretching his shoulder blades, trying to dislodge the pain between them.

“Huh,” Kyle looked at the ground, crossing his arms over his chest. “Didn’t know that was an option.”

Johnny ran a hand over his mohawk, jaw working back and forth.

“If you grannies are done gossiping there is work to be done in here,” John yelled out from the second floor. He effectively filleted the tension that had risen in each man.

They didn’t pick the conversation up again until Price had taken his turn in the shower at the hotel. Every bit of your life that had been recorded in an accessible way had been poured over. They were looking for what witchcraft made you a better single mother to four boys you didn’t birth than any of the biological parents that beat and ruined the three men who ran from their problems with bullets and tactical vests. They didn’t find the answers they were looking for.

Part 1 | Part 4

Masterlist

#cod #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader

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doeidawn · 2 months ago

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doeidawn's kinkmas day seven ❆ toys

KINKMAS 2024 | PREVIOUS DAY | NEXT DAY

valeria always ensures her girl is damn-near overwhelmed with love, and the holidays are no exception. 2.3k

❆ pairing: valeria x fem!reader

❆ tags: MDNI/18+; google translate spanish—author apologizes in advance; pleasure dom valeria; sex toys (obviously); collaring; slight overstimulation

Anybody could guess that you were the light of Valeria’s life. For a woman who never showed off or bragged about her capabilities, she was damn proud of you. She displayed you like you were the greatest prize she’d ever won.

She toted you around, gave you any and everything you ever dreamed of. If you mentioned something in passing, you best believe it was in your possession as soon as possible. It didn’t matter what it was, if you even thought about it, she made sure it was yours.

You were untouchable. El Sin Nombre’s girl. People knew they couldn’t even breathe the wrong way around you. One wrong look and their necks were on the line. Not even her men weren’t safe; if someone didn’t like you, they were put out to pasture.

Valeria loved you—damned near worshiped you. She treated you like there was nothing finer in life than making sure you were safe, happy, and loved properly.

And the holidays were only an excuse to shower you in even more attention. Piling gifts, sometimes just giving you money to go on a spree and get whatever you wanted. Unlimited funds for her girl. But, most importantly, the special times of year were her excuse to make you feel as good as possible.

So when you were greeted with a handful of new toys for the holidays this year, you knew you were in for a ride. Things to bind you, things that vibrate, things to fill you with. There was a little bit of everything. Variety, she told you, because you deserve the best.

And, like usual, it didn’t take much of her sweet talking to get you in bed. She insisted on taking your clothes off for you—don’t want you to lift a finger, nena. But it was easy to convince you of anything when she got her hands on you. Grabbing you tight and holding you close, she wanted to feel your nails scratch her skin as she sunk her teeth into you. El Sin Nombre’s girl was always well-marked for the masses to see.

You skirt your hands over her hips, dipping beneath her shirt to feel the soft skin underneath. You were the only one who got to see the softer parts of her, or see gentle love in her eyes when you held her close like this. You tug at the fabric until it begins to ride up her body—a silent plea for her to undress as well.

One of her hands finds yours, gently guiding you out from under her shirt. “No, no. This is about you,” she says with a soft smile. “Let me take care of you. Let me make my girl feel good.”

You open your mouth to object, but she hushes you with a kiss. Laying beneath her, you relent and allow her to ‘take care of you’ in whatever way she sees fit.

It starts with her hands running all over your body. Up and down, over every curve and dip, brushing over sensitive spots and seeing how you react. Her strong grip holds your hips tight as she leans down to kiss your neck, teasing over indents of her teeth and nearly-healed bruises she’d sucked into your skin. Her soft lips part and her warm breath seeps into the wet spots she leaves behind.

A hand dips between your legs, featherlight touches barely brushing over your cunt. Her teasing fingers spread you open and glide through the slick arousal coating your sensitive flesh. The wetness already gathered there makes her smile against your skin.

“Oh, she’s already wet for me huh?” The low rumble of Valeria’s voice makes you shiver.

Her lips move downward, kissing along your chest as she brushes her fingers over your clit. The slight jerk of your hips makes her laugh, the sound seeping into your ribcage. She moves her fingers in slow circles before slipping them down and spreading your slick. A soft pat comes down on your cunt, one that makes you want to grind into her palm.

“Gonna make this pretty cunt feel so good.” Her teeth nip your neck playfully. “Ready to play with your new toys, hermosa?”

She pulls away only after hearing your soft “mm-hmm”. The new selection of toys sat near the end of the bed, laid out and ready for whatever Valeria wanted to do with them. You watch her shuffle back and grab a small wand, one that fits perfectly in her hand, before she crawls over to you. The look in her eyes is enough to make your legs go lax and spread, but she holds one thigh firmly to keep you from moving.

You hear the small vibrator come to life, buzzing softly in her hand. She runs the toy along the inside of your thigh until you twitch and try to coax her closer. The vibrations rub against your skin, just enough sensation to make your cunt flutter and weep, aching for actual contact. She moves the toy inward before you can form the words to beg.

The buzzing head runs over your cunt, teasingly avoiding your clit. The residual vibrations still manage to make you twitch, whining with each near-brush of your clit. After a few agonizing seconds of teasing, she finally lands the toy where you need it, taking your breath away with the sudden steady pressure.

“You look so pretty when you whine for it, nena.” Leaning over you, Valeria’s mouth lands on your chest with a soft kiss. “I won’t make you beg for it. Not this time.” Her lips trail up to your neck, kissing over near-faded love bites. “This pussy is going to get everything it wants tonight.”

She punctuates her words with a click of the vibrator, upping the speed slightly. It’s enough to make a difference; a shaky moan spills from your lips as you buck against the toy. Every kiss and nip of her mouth makes your cunt pulse against the wand. She angles it just right, massaging the most sensitive part of your swollen clit.

Small moans and sweet gasps fall freely every time you rock your hips into the vibrations. You pull her closer, wrapping your arms around her neck to keep her face inches away from yours. You wanted to see the mix of power and lust in her eyes—a sight you never got tired of. It never failed to make you sure of the effort she put into ensuring you felt good.

You lean up to kiss her, which she obliges with a hungrier kiss of her own. “More,” you pant into her mouth when you get the chance to breathe. “Please, give me more.”

Her sweet laugh hits your lips. “Oh, already asking for more?” She teases, but she doesn’t deny you. Another click and you feel the power of the vibrations increase. She smiles at your shaky breath, kissing you through your moans.

You don’t hear the next click, but the wand undoubtedly speeds up again. It’s an overwhelmingly quick pulse, the constant friction and pressure lending itself to a very rapidly building orgasm. You grind against the toy, panting into her mouth. Another click you don’t hear and the vibration almost immediately makes your legs shake.

Valeria can’t get enough of it. She watches your tense thighs quiver, the heat of your skin searing her own. It’s mesmerizing to her. “Didn’t take very long, huh? Are you going to cum for me, bella?”

You open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a choked sound resembling a moan. Your orgasm hits before you can even say it, overtaken by the quick vibrations after only a few seconds. Your body shakes, rocking into the pulses of pleasure that run through you. She only slides the wand away when you start to whine and pull your hips away from the sensation.

A soft kiss lands on your forehead as the buzzing stops. “So good, so good. You took it so well, baby.” Her nose brushes against yours, her eyes boring into your heavy gaze. “Can’t wait to see what else you can take.”

She pulls back, placing the wand off to the side, presumably done with it for now. The possibilities open up once more as she looks back at the selection of new toys and treats. She sits like that for a moment before looking back at you.

“Can I collar you?”

The question surprises you for a moment. Collaring wasn’t unheard of with her, but it was new for the two of you. Between the eagerness in her eyes and the curiosity you felt, you agree. You see her smile before she grabs a leather collar and accompanying leash from the small pile of objects.

Valeria sidles up, sitting beside you on the bed. She carefully maneuvers and holds your head to help settle the collar around your neck. It sits snug, not too thick and not too overwhelming. She’s sure to keep it loose enough for your comfort before attaching the leash with a small click. A soft tug of the leash moves your head in her direction. She meets the movement halfway, leaning down to kiss you.

“Mi pequeña ninfa…” She mutters against your lips. Pulling back slightly, her grip still firm on your leash, she looks over your body. “Let’s get you prepared for me.”

You watch her reach back over to the assortment of objects, shifting back into place between your legs once she’s retrieved something. It looks like a rabbit wand—something thick enough to fill you but still vibrate. She holds it proudly in her hand before bringing it between your spread legs. The curved end prods at your hole, slicked up with your cum.

She slides the toy in slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion. It’s not a big stretch, but it’s enough to make you feel full. It’s just big enough to hit deep and make you tremble whenever she sinks it all the way in. The firm extension on top brushes against your still-sensitive clit with every movement, making your hips twitch. You can already feel the slow build-up, spurred on by your recent orgasm, heat tightening in your core with each thrust.

“There you go, cariño. Feels so good, doesn’t it?” A sharp tug to your leash lifts your head off of the pillow. You look up at her, at the excitedly smug smile on her lips. “There’s my girl. I want to see your face when I do this.”

The toy suddenly turns on, vibrating both inside and outside of your cunt. The firm silicone surrounding your clit buzzes rapidly, overwhelming your heightened nerves. You nearly choke on your own whine, each pulse of strong vibration stealing the air from your lungs in a moan.

“Fuck,” you manage to pant out. “Oh my God, Val’...” You’re too caught up in the sensations to speak properly, stumbling over your own desperate sounds.

“I know, nena, I know…” Her soft coos do nothing to soothe the intense feeling. The faux-sympathy in her voice only spurred on the heat building in your core.

Your fingers dig into the sheets beneath you, tugging at soft fabric to ground yourself. The leash goes taut with another tug, knocking the air out of your lungs. It’s too much, too many things bombarding your senses at one time. The tip of the vibrator buzzes intensely with every brush against that soft spot inside, massaging it until you keen.

Valeria seems to notice that, the sudden jerk in your body every time she thrusts the toy in. With a few seconds of searching, she finds the spot that makes you squirm, holding the vibrator just right to abuse that sensitive spot. You cry out, throwing your head back despite the pressure of the collar around your neck.

“Right there, huh? That’s the spot?” She leans in so close you can feel her breath on your neck, hot and heavy and teasing.

“Yes…yes, that’s…hah—fuck!” You’re sputtering and mumbling, unable to form a sentence without interrupting yourself with moans and curses.

Her laughter is soft but taunting enough to send a shiver down your spine. “That’s going to make this pretty cunt cum, yeah?” Your responding whine seems to satisfy her. “Buenísimo. Give it to me, bella.”

She damn near tortures you with the firm press of that vibrator inside you, tugging the leash attached to your collar until your head lolls forward and your blown pupils meet hers. She wanted to see you—she always had to. She had to know what she did to you, what pretty faces you made while she drew those pitiful sounds from your throat.

You couldn’t stop it if you tried. The orgasm it pulls from you is intense. A sharp cry that turns to a shaky moan falls from your lips while your entire body trembles. Every muscle goes tense, your cunt pulsing around the toy, seeping your slick cum onto the silicone. Valeria doesn’t stop until she’s sure you’ve given her every last bit of your energy.

A feeling akin to relief washes over you as she pulls the vibrator away. Your overworked cunt flutters with residual pleasure as she kisses your forehead. The leash goes lax, relaxing the collar around your neck, helping you catch your breath as you lay.

Gentle, warm kisses trail over your brow, down to your cheek. “So beautiful, nena,” she whispers against your skin. “Catch your breath. We’ve got a few more toys to try out.”

Your eyes are heavy when you look past her to the small pile on the other end of the bed. Sure enough, there were at least three toys that you could see. It was only then you realized she had intended to try out all of her gifts on you. In one night. There was no doubt in your mind that you’d be sore come morning. But there was also no doubt that Valeria loved you—she had to if she got all of her pleasure just seeing you fall apart over and over.

It was going to be a long night.

#doeidawn's kinkmas #clown writes #cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty #cod #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #valeria cod #valeria garza cod #valeria garza smut

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endearng · 2 months ago

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The books that I keep by my bed — are full of your stories

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader Summary: The answer is: you don't. | Part 2 to Lifeline. WC: 1.9k Warnings: none :) this is pure fluff and maybe a little delusional lol considering reader's background A/N: I have no excuse for myself, I love to call people I love and read to them. I feel like Spencer would love that as well. The title is based on the song 'Sloom', by Of Monsters and Men. <3 | masterlist

Now, a year after the incidents that made your life change for the better, as you wake up every day, you can remember the first thing you see. Maybe the white ceiling as the soft fabric of your duvet grazes your skin. Maybe a vision of your window. Maybe your nightstand, where you keep sort of a shrine — a current read, a picture of you as a kid, your reading glasses, a lamp, your favorite watch, the sobriety chip that you always put in your pocket whenever you went out. And the letters you got from Spencer, of course.

Things had been getting better, even if you had ups and downs. You slowly made your way back to college and were taking your last classes before graduation. You had an internship in a practice that allowed you to be in contact with the career you wanted to pursue, helping others through therapy. You also found your family again, having moved out of Richmond, but staying in touch and casually visiting them when you were in need of a shoulder. through it all, you got letters from dr. Spencer Reid.

You haven't met much, of course. He had stayed with you as long as he could when you were at the hospital, but he claimed that he would stay in touch. True to his words, you got letters weekly and sometimes he would call you late at night, being forced to by the timezone, in need of someone to talk to. You picked up every time and, at some point, you went to sleep hoping you'd get woken up by the sound of your phone ringing.

His letters always told stories that helped you fall asleep: creative, funny, gut wrenching at times. As time went by, you found out that, besides a great friend, he was also an incredibly talented writer. Spencer wasn't very good at disguising that it was he and his experiences that he talked about, no matter how hard he tried to convince you otherwise. You'd laugh about the fact that you were able to see right through him.

As soon as the phone stops ringing, letting him know you've taken his call, his face lights up in a smile. "Today was a good day."

"Is that so? What happened?" He asked, heart skipping a beat at the sound of your voice.

"I made some new friends at university." You squeal in excitement. He can feel the smile on your face. "They are a bit younger than me, but they are very supportive."

"I'm glad you have new friends now. University can be very demanding and overwhelming. It's important to have good company." He said, picking on a fingernail.

"I have you." You said, clutching the locker between your fingers.

He faltered.

"Y-yeah, but, you know... I'm not always around."

Glancing at your bedtime stories, you say, "You are". Yes, they are yours, because he wrote them for you.

Spencer gulps. God. This... This is getting out of hand.

Quietness. "Anyway, how was your day, Spencer?"

"It was... good. We just solved the case, but we're too tired to go back to Quantico now." He replied mindlessly.

"Then why aren't you getting some rest?"

He blurted out, "I needed to check on you."

A sigh from your end. He didn't quite know how to read that, since he was unable to look you in the eye, but he preferred thinking that you were happy that he called. "Thank you for doing that. But, you know, I'm doing good." Silence. "Are you?"

"I am, yes. I'm happy to talk to you."

"I always look forward to our calls. And your letters. You know, you're getting better at disguising yourself, Reid." You chuckle, imagining him rolling his eyes at you. "Don't say a word. Come on! A guy who sits and watches time going by? That's you! Although I was a little shocked to see that he wasn't stuck in place forever. That's a first."

He chuckled. "I assume you like it, then?"

"Very much," you quip. "I have a question, though. Is this a metaphor?"

"What for?"

"I was thinking. That guy you wrote about stays in place, apparently rooted to the spot, but suddenly he witnesses something unsettling in front of him and decides it's time to go, right?" he nods, although you can't see him. "Where to?"

"To his place."

"As in his house? Does he have one?"

Lying down on the mattress, he closes his eyes, focusing on your voice and how absolutely naive you were. "He might, yes. I might write about it whenever I can."

Again, he can feel your smile. "I'll be waiting, then. I'm glad you called."

Spencer falls asleep to your voice reading the short story he had written you, his phone clutched near to his wild heart.

—

Tonight, Spencer would actually come in to visit you. It was about time you two properly hang out together, after endless months of phone calls and letters sent to you — you had joked once that maybe he should come over. That made him drive all night to get to you.

You were a mess, having meticulously cleaned your apartment over and over so that it would be spotless when he arrived. You looked around and felt a strange sense of pride; the decor reflected the new stage of your life, the best one so far. The plants that adorned your living room, as small it may be, made you feel like you had something to care for, something to come home to. Something to be here for.

The doorbell rang. You thought you felt a ghost of sweat run down your back. Taking a deep breath, you saw Spencer Reid.

"Hi," you breathed out, the biggest, most honest smile on your face. He smiled back.

If the sun was a person, it would look like you.

In a hoarse voice, he greeted you back. "Hi."

Spencer took in your appearance. Your cheeks were fuller, your eyes were now brighter and your smile reached them. He had never seen such a sight before, and he felt his heart rate speed at the thought that it was for his eyes only. You were smiling at him. He fought the itch to give you a hug, thinking that it would be too much for you. A thought hit him then: that he would, that he could never do anything to upset you in any form.

All that from a smile alone.

"Come in, please," you said, making room for him to enter. "I'm dying to show you something."

Entering your apartment, he muttered, "I'm dying to see what it is."

Upon his arrival, the light seemed brighter and you could barely stop yourself from grinning like a damn fool. What did you do to my eyes?

"It's just a draft. I'm still working on it."

Pulled out of his reverie, he managed a small grin. Your hair was thicker, fuller, framing your face so beautifully. Your clothes fitted you a lot better and you looked very happy. Whether it was from seeing him or in general, Spencer didn't know, but he allowed himself to indulge at the precious thought. Your big, round eyes looked at him expectantly as your delicate hands held a paper out to him. Your graduation speech.

Looking at the yellowed sheet, he took it in his hands, fingers subtly brushing yours. You look at your hands. His touch doesn't make your skin crawl. It burns it.

This is the draft of a speech. I'm making sure to point this out because I must know what I'm going to say and what I won't. These last few months were challenging, but I'm finally starting to feel like myself again. I can see myself in the mirror and it's not a stranger. I'm no longer a stranger to the world, either. I talk to people. I understand them. I feel like doing things. It turns out that it wasn't too late. That I wasn't dead. I am not dead. And it took me bravery, a few people to whom I owe my life and that's not an overstatement, but that I'd like them to know that I'm immensely grateful for not letting me bleed myself out of my body. There's still me in here. And I'm nurturing her back to health with the help of my loved ones.

I'll never forget how you made me heal.

"I know it's not the best and I have a lot to say, but, um, I wanted you to see my first thoughts and I'm a bit scared you won't be there to hear me say it." You said, looking at him, who still glanced at the paper. "It's not like anything you write, because you sure have a way with words that I don't, but the thing is, I want you to feel like you've saved me. Because you did."

Unable to control his expressions, his brows furrowed as his eyes watered. You widened your own at him. "Shit. I... I'm sorry," you chuckled once he grinned at your curse. "You made me feel and realize so many things with no need for words. You looked at me and I felt seen, not wanted, not desired, not frowned upon... I felt seen. And I remember the look on your face every time I lay my head on the pillow."

It escapes him. He thinks he is just thinking it, but his mouth, lips, voice, everything betrays him. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever known."

Your flushed face, your mouth agape and your averted gaze make him smile. Warmth floods his chest when you say, "I'm lucky you think that."

"I'm lucky we met."

"I wanted to be the same way I once was before everything happened. But I guess that, I think I like me now. I like moving on. I like finding life again. And I know that whatever happens to me, I know it's better than anything."

"I want to happen with you."

Wrapping your arms around his torso, listening to his frantic heartbeat, you inhale deeply, your senses going haywire by the sheer presence of him. Your conversations made your heart feel fuller, his desire and questions to find out about you made you feel whole and you nurtured your curiosity about him as well. "Tell me how the drive went."

"It went well."

It is funny how people tend to shift between preferring the destination or the journey. To Spencer, it was both, and his analytic mind had, for once, trouble deciding between two things: the journey, where the anticipation of seeing you made his heart feel overwhelmed with joy over the mere prospect of looking in your eyes after months of falling asleep to the sound of your voice; or the destination, where he finally held you in his arms and your body pressed to his made everything feel realer than it ever was on his life.

Smiling softly, you look up at him to brush a strand of his hair out of his face. His heart flutters because of your adoring gaze. "I love your eyes. Um, I think that they are gorgeous," you remark in that soft melodic voice that read him his short stories.

Spencer smiled, unable to look away or to fight the blush creeping on his cheeks. Her genuine compliment left him speechless. "You... you have a way with words, you know that?" He inquired rhetorically with a tone that was a mixture of vulnerability and genuine surprise. "Your... compliments, they're..." He clears his throat, smiling dumbly, giddily, as his mind tries searching for the right adjective on his brain that apparently had short-circuited.

"... All yours. They are all yours."

The man rooted to the spot made his way back home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #writersontumblrs #spencer reid self insert #cm fanfic #cm fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

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eddiessluttywaist · 11 months ago

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the boy is mine (eddiessluttywaist's edition)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: romantic night at the trailer, based off of this prompt!

pairing: bf!eddie x gf!reader

word count: 1, 944 words

content/warnings: MDNI, fluff, kissing, lots of touchy feels, a lil smutty?

a/n: creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage! also would like to credit @carolmunson for this prompt and @mrsjellymunson for tagging me! I haven’t written for eddie in so long, and this was a great way to get back into it <3 thank you! hope you enjoy my contribution <3

You basked in the scent of Eddie’s bedding, how he was ingrained into each and every fiber. Every motion, every shift of the sheets, you could smell him. He had foolishly left you to your own devices in his bedroom (which was surprising since the last time he did that, you almost dared touch his Sweetheart) so you indulged.

You curled up in the sprawling mess of blankets and sheets then grabbed the small throw pillow you had embroidered for him and buried your face in it. It was a delicate, pretty, little thing that stood out in his room even with its DnD theme, but he loved it. He loved that you made it, that you put so much effort into it just for him, so he slept with it every night. Unfamiliar with the concept of purely decorative pillows, he didn’t realize most people tucked such things off to the side before getting into bed each night. So, it smelled like cigarettes, convenience store aftershave, and his shampoo. The scent filled you with dizzying affection, only pulling it away from your face to then hug it to your chest as he walked back into his room.

“I ran out of, like, nice cups. This okay?” he asked as he blew into one of the mugs and then used the bottom of his shirt to wipe it down. He was planning on cleaning those cartoon-themed cups properly for some absurdly fancy hot chocolate you had brought back from your family vacation. He was even planning on making another case for not wasting it on him, but, of course, his attention strayed easily when you were in his bed.

When his gaze finally fell on you, a lazy smile quirked up one side of his mouth. The handles of the mugs hung off the curl of his fingers which rested against his hips now as he took in the sight of you. He tilted his head to put it at the same angle as yours, his favorite pillow in your arms. You were an unbelievably endearing sight. The love that filled him was fluttery and overwhelming.

“And who said you could hold my favorite pillow?” He teased, sauntering over to the bed.

“I made it,” you scoffed with a smile.

He hums lazily in response, that crooked grin still hanging around as he shoved at the clutter on his bedside table. He picked up a small notebook, brow furrowed as he observed it only to haphazardly toss it towards his dresser to make more room. It was that or your tub of Betty Crocker, and he knew better.

You stared at his forearms, drinking in the movement of the musculature underneath. The warmth of his bedside lamp made it even better to watch the lines and curves of his tattoos beneath its comforting, golden light. How could something so simple be so beautiful? Your focus then trailed to the perfect structure of his hands as the mugs slid down his fingers. The ceramic cups clinked against the surface of the old table.

“I think as the creator, I have some right to hold it too,” you continued to make your case while he crawled into bed with you, giving you that subtle mischievous look he always got when he was toying with you.

His strong arms wrapped around you to secure you closer to him.

“I worked very hard on it, y’know.”

Eddie let out an “Is that right?” kind of sound, the texture of his jeans scratching against the bedding. He pulled you into him with such a desperate need to squish you as close as possible as if he thought you might be leaving soon. Those brown curls tickled your jaw while he nuzzled the side of your neck, audibly breathing you in.

“And it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to embroider all that Dungeons and—”

He finally pulled back to cut you off, smushing his face against yours in a way that made you giggle. Eddie’s kisses were always lazy and sloppy this late at night, but you loved them that way. His lips were warm albeit a bit rough from all the anxious biting that he abused them with. A pleased hum left him and vibrated deep in his throat, his large hands encasing the sides of your face and his fingers tangling in your hair. His rings would probably tug a strand or two when he pulled them away, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

The way your body relaxed reassured him, and he slid his arms down to pull you in again so your stomach could be flat against his own. Then, he let out a small chuckle when he had to separate from you to pluck the throw pillow out from between you. Eddie placed it elsewhere with emphasized tenderness while you stared at those ruddy lips that you missed already.

“Pillow was in the way,” he murmured in a low tone, kissing you back as you pulled him in for a few more pecks.

“And here I was thinking you were starting to love it more than me.”

“Aw, now don’t be like that. You know that’s not true,” Eddie drawled, grinning over that unconvincing little pout you gave him.

He sat back on his legs to move the bedding out of his way, then pulled you forward by your thighs which he readily settled in between. There was nothing he wanted more than to be thoroughly pressed against you. It wasn’t even about sex, at least not always. He just loved the feeling of you being so close to him. The softness of your stomach against his taut abdomen. The plushness of your chest pressed against the flat planes of his own. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the way your bodies fit together too, but he’d melt into you if he could.

Eddie was the type to lean into you while you were walking together, ending up so close that his wallet chain would keep bumping against you. He always sought out your hand to hold or your shoulders for him to drape his arm across (which of course always ended up with him folding you into him so your face would press against a Hellfire symbol or band name, and he could settle his chin on the top of your head).

“I don’t think I believe you.”

You crossed your arms, failing to keep up with your façade, especially with that smile and those dimples.

“Well then, my dramatic lil lady,” He spoke with that same theatrical cadence that he used during campaigns, his brow furrowed with determination. You groaned over the incoming mawkishness, rolling your gaze up to the ceiling and smiling to the point that the apples of your cheeks ached.

“I suppose I must convince you.”

His hand settled on the side of your neck, thumb brushing against the center of your throat as he dipped down for another kiss.

“You’re so corny,” you laughed against his lips.

“And you… taste like vanilla,” he sighed, laughing with you after.

“Mm, well, that is the work of Ms. Betty Crocker,” you smiled up at him, gently tapping his nose. “Speaking of…”

Eddie groaned, mentally cursing himself for even bringing it up as you squirmed out from underneath him to grab the container from behind the abandoned mugs. He watched you intently while you sucked a scoop of frosting off your finger. When you met his gaze, he gave you a cheeky grin that he failed to conceal by biting his lip and then wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“You’re a child,” you snorted, reaching out to tap some frosting onto the tip of his nose.

“And you’re devastating,” he countered in a voice so sickeningly saccharine with love that you wiped the frosting right back off. He caught your hand and sucked the sugar from the pad of your thumb before you could fully pull back.

“Who knew the local bad boy could be such a softie,” you teased softly, scooping some more frosting to feed it to him. Eddie playfully bit down just enough to make you laugh.

“I believe you mean ‘the local freak.’”

“Mm, tomato, tomahto,” you shrugged, lapping up some more frosting off your finger. His rich umber eyes seemed to glitter in the dull lighting, his pupils dilating. You looked up at him through your lashes when you felt his stare.

“We’re gonna have a problem if you keep doing that,” Eddie’s voice was rough even as he smiled over you.

“What?” you laughed, full of faux innocence. He just smirked. “No, what?”

“You know what.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you shrug, going to scoop some more frosting out when he snags the tub from you.

“Wh— hey!”

You already missed his warmth when he sank back onto folded legs, dipping his forefinger into the tub.

“You’re gonna get your rings all sticky,”

You blushed when that made him cackle, but you at least got the comfort of his body again as he hunched over you. His smile was tangible against the side of your neck, his hair tickling you again.

“Not the only thing that—”

“Eddie, shu-u-ush,” you laughed, and he flattened himself on top of you again, leaving tacky, sugary kisses on your neck while you pried the vanilla frosting from his hand. He gave up on keeping it from you, happy to have a free hand again to seek out your waist with.

Holding the container with one hand, you arched your other arm over him to scoop just one more—you swore just one more! —fingertip of frosting, but he was pulling back before you could even dip into it.

“Gimme that—”

“So rude taking things from me today,” you tutted, watching with a pout as he fed himself some of your treat.

“Have to have you all to myself,” he mimicked some toxic-alpha-dude-type bravado, but he couldn’t even get through it without chuckling at the end.

Eddie prodded at the dwindling supply of Betty Crocker’s then tossed the container back onto his bedside table. But you reached out to catch his wrist and brought his index finger to your mouth before he could bring it to his own.

He groaned, leaning onto one elbow while he gawked at you. His full lips parted at the sight of you, his thumb brushing against your cheek as you sucked on his finger. Damn.

“You never play fair.”

“And you like that,” you stated proudly once he slid his finger back out of your mouth.

“Course I do,” he grunted, sliding the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. “May have taken a few attempts to graduate, but I’m not that dumb.”

Your following giggle was breathy and fleeting as you sunk into the tension filling the room. You took in the growing heat in his gaze that tracked his thumb while it hooked your bottom lip. He mimicked opening his own mouth as you did so without even being asked, making him smile and drag his tongue over his lip. He slid his pointer finger down your tongue again, letting it trail down until he was holding your chin between his curled finger and thumb. Keeping your chin down and lips parted, he leaned in. The kiss was firmer—more determined—and desperate. He was putting every ounce of his desire into you, and this time you were the one melting. You felt like you were sinking deeper into that old mattress, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him with you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddiemunson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #bf!eddie munson #the boy is mine eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut

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userlando · 2 years ago

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dark paradise — lando norris

lando norris x female!reader [1.6k] summary: it was no secret that alcohol made you and lando frisky. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, public sex, pwp. a/n: HELLO it's me again. I have a lot of lando feels and just needed to write it out. this is short and smutty, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!!

Your body hums, heart thrumming in your chest as you grip meaty shoulders with your hands and bring the man closer to you. It’s hot, humid even, the whole club reeking of washed out perfume, alcohol and sweat. It feels deprived almost, but you can’t bring yourself to care even an ounce because bright and blue eyes are staring right into your eyes; pupils blown and dark.

It’s foggy and the strobe lights make it hard to see more than ten meters ahead of you, the music so loud in your ears that it drowns out the rushing sound of blood. It becomes a little overwhelming when big and calloused hands find the sides of your thighs, drawing a path up, up, up until they meet the hemline of your dress.

You pant heavily, drawing air that he breathes with his mouth so close but so far from you. The very same lips you’re staring at pull into a slow smirk, like he knows what he’s doing, like he knows the effect he has on you and he does. It’s so hard to concentrate, thinking of nothing but the feel of his mouth against yours. You crave to taste them, to delve into his mouth and have him draw every last ounce of sanity from you. A form of surrender you're all too willing to act out.

But Lando has other plans, content with making you squirm where you’re standing, two of his fingers finding their way up your dress and drawing slow and tantalising circles on the skin of your inner thigh. His eyes never leave yours, watching your every move and twitch as he nudges the edge of your panties. You can almost see what he's thinking, how he yearns to have you home in your bed with your back on the mattress and your legs caging his head.

He doesn’t slip inside, just touches the hem of the fabric, running the pads of his fingers so achingly close to where you need them most.

You huff out a breath of frustration, gaze straying from his face to somewhere behind him where the throng of people are dancing in their own world, like yours isn't spinning out of control. Lando’s fingers stop their teasing movement, making his dislike of your wandering eyes known by tutting and bringing his other unoccupied hand up to grab your chin.

The way he turns your head makes you whine, eyes watering a little and he grins because he loves how needy alcohol makes you. You’re not even drunk, having taken only two shots at the beginning of the night and nursing a strawberry mojito to keep that buzz going.

It hadn’t been hard to work you up into a frenzied mess, sharing a few dances with you and whispering some filthy words in your ears before you were dragging him into a remote and dark corner and licking into his mouth.

He looked into your eyes, watched how the frown marring your eyebrows deepened when he slipped a finger inside your underwear and he nudges your clit. It never got old, seeing the look of absolute pleasure blanket your face so easily, your pretty mouth so wet with saliva and inviting that he wanted nothing more than to bring you to your knees and slip his cock into your greedy mouth.

You let out a shuddered breath through your nose, eyelids fluttering shut for only a second before Lando’s hand tightened its hold on your chin. Just hard enough for you to take it as a warning, eyes opening right back up to look at him through hooded lids.

He rewarded you by sliding a second finger into the fabric of your panties, bringing the digits down to your hole to coat them in your slick and up, rubbing small and tight circles onto your clit just how he knew you liked it.

You whined, high and needy, feeling your knees buckle a little at the perfect pressure of his thumb. Lando licked his lips, taking a step forward and forcing you further up the wall; putting more pressure in his fingers and keeping you from teetering to the side.

It was like fire licking up your spine, toes tingling in a way that was definitely not from them going numb for being squeezed into your high heels for hours. Any other day and you would’ve probably been more sensible, more aware of your surroundings and that it only took one person to look your way to know what the two of you were up to.

But today wasn’t that day. It had been a successful race weekend in Monaco and the entire grid had gone out to celebrate. Lando had even found himself behind the DJ booth again, spirits so high that you couldn’t help but give in to everything he did and said.

It was no surprise that alcohol made you both a little frisky, it was a running joke between your friends at this point. A few drinks and you both would find yourselves wrapped up in each other, forgetting about the outside world.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, linking your hands into his hair to bring him closer to you so you could reach his lips. Lando went easily, hand sliding from your chin to your throat, resting it there as you opened up to him; allowing him to kiss you as he pleased.

It was filthy, how he slipped his fingers inside of you just to hear and feel you moan into his mouth, bringing a thumb to play with your clit until you were sucking on his tongue. He tasted of the aperol spritz he’d downed earlier, so intoxicating and sweet that you found yourself craving for more.

You made a sound of protest in your throat when he pulled back, kissing up your jawline before he rested his head against the side of yours. His breath was hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“You look so pretty with my fingers inside of you.” There was a husk to his voice that made you grip his hair tighter, rolling your body up and into his hand between your legs. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You echoed his word, dazed and shaking.

His fingers were sinful, playing you like a fiddle with such a practiced ease that it should’ve been illegal.

“Dripping down my hand.” He let out a laugh and you keened.

His face moved against your ear and you could just picture the shit-eating grin on his face, how fucking cocky he looked because he had done that. He’d successfully rendered you into a mess.

“F-fuck.” Your voice hitched when the pressure in your belly started to build, clenching around the fingers inside you.

It didn’t deter him though, only made him work a little faster when you dug your fingers into his hair and pulled. A throaty moan sounded in your ear and it was so erotic that your knees almost buckled.

“Lando.” You didn’t need to say any more.

“I know baby, I know.” He turned his head so he could see your side profile, watching your mouth gap open and closed as you struggled to find words. “Louder, baby. Let me hear you.”

White light exploded behind your eyelids as you squeezed them shut, bucking your hips as the rubber band got pulled so taut that it finally snapped. You came with a wail of his name, drowned out by the pulsing music in the club but Lando heard it loud and clear.

He could feel you squeezing his fingers, hole fluttering when you started to come down from your high. You whimpered when his thumb on your sensitive clit became too much, reaching a hand out to slap at his arm in a poor attempt to make him stop.

Lando pressed a chaste kiss against the column of your sweaty throat, relishing in the breathy whine you let out when he pulled his fingers away. Your throat bobbed under his lips as you swallowed, letting him right your underwear and pat down your dress - like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't rocked your world three ways to Sunday.

“You look so beautiful, baby.” He complimented you sweetly, pushing himself upright to smile at you. “Came so prettily on my fingers.”

Heat spread onto your cheeks as you regarded his eyes, blown out pupils and the redness on the apples of his cheeks. Lando was clearly turned on and you knew that it was only a matter of time before he called it a night and took the both of you home.

You didn’t mind though, you were ready to leave this place.

Lando brought the hand that had been inside you up between you, slipping two wet fingers into his mouth to suck on them and you covered your face with your hands at the obscene show he was putting on. His laughter reached your ears and you shook your head, peeking at him from between your fingers.

“You’re unbelievable.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the grin on his face.

“Yeah, maybe.” He placed two hands on either side of your hips to draw you into him. The hard plane of his body against yours felt a lot like home, and you welcomed the feeling with open arms. “But you love me.”

Your teeth found your bottom lip, holding back a smile.

“I really do.” You nodded, reaching a hand up to thumb at his lower lip. “I’d love you even more if you took us home.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x female reader #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #f1 fics #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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nhlclover · 3 months ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐊𝐈𝐃

madeleine chase x will smith

will goes on a podcast and reveals to the world his gushing crush on pop star, madeleine chase (wc; 1.11k)

༉‧₊˚. ꒰ notes! ꒱ this is lowkey inspired by how tate mcrae and cole sillinger first got together + what will said in a podcast about tate mcrae (literally every man is obsessed with her and so am i)

au masterlist

It had been about a week since Will had moved to San Jose and he was… settling. California was very different from Massachusetts and everything was new. From the weather to the people, everything was unfamiliar to Will. His teammates — another new thing Will was getting used to — had been nothing but welcoming. They had been showing him around the area and making sure he was settling in well—especially the Marleau family who were taking him in for his first year in San Jose.

He appreciated their efforts, even though the move was still overwhelming at times. The sunny, warm weather of California was a stark contrast to the often chilly and unpredictable climate of Massachusetts, and it was both a blessing and a challenge to adapt to. The culture here was more laid-back, and people seemed to carry an air of casualness that Will wasn’t entirely accustomed to.

In the midst of all these changes, he was dealing with the start of the hockey season, which brought on a lot of commitments. Despite today being a rest day from all of the beginning of the season media, Will was sitting in the Empty Netters podcast studio. Will had met Dan and Chris, the two hosts, a while back, promising them he’d come on when he got signed by the Sharks. Months later, Will was fulfilling his promise.

“Alright, Will, welcome to the Empty Netters pod! Glad to have you here,” said Chris.

“Thank you for having me,” Will said, smiling politely.

“So, you've been in San Jose for what—about two weeks? How’s the transition going? It’s gotta be a change from Massachusetts." Dan asked.

Will nodded, leaning into the mic a bit. “Yeah, about that but it feels like longer with everything going on. It’s been go, go, go since I got here but California’s great. And everyone’s been super welcoming, especially the Marleau family. They’ve really helped me get settled.”

Dan grinned. “Yeah, you got blessed with your living situation for your first year. I mean Patrick Marleau is a legend.”

“Not bad at all,” Will chuckled, relaxing a little. “They’ve been great. Showing me around, and introducing me to some good spots to eat. I’m trying to figure out the whole California lifestyle.”

The conversation flowed easily as they touched on his early career, what he was looking forward to with the Sharks and a few lighter topics.

“Okay, Will, to end this interview we just want to do some rapid-fire questions, alright? So these are just random.” Chris asked.

“Yeah, ok, sounds good,” Will replied.

“Great, first question,” Chris said, glancing at his notes. “What's your favorite movie?”

Will thought for a moment, debating between the movies he loved. “I'd have to say 'Good Will Hunting'. It's a classic and, well, it's set in Boston. Reminds me of home.”

Both Dan and Chris nodded appreciatively. “Nice choice,” Dan answered. “Alright, next up: what's your go-to comfort food?”

“Probably a good lobster roll,” Will replied instantly. “It's practically a staple back home.”

“A lobster roll from Cape Cod sounds fucking delicious.” Chris agreed.

“Alright, final question,” Dan says. “Who is your celebrity crush?”

“Madeleine Chase,” Will says without hesitation.

Both Dan and Chris burst into laughter at Will’s quick answer, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he realizes his eagerness. “Damn, you were ready for that question,” Chris says through laughter. “Can you expand on why she is your celebrity crush?”

Will chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I mean, first of all, she’s gorgeous. I keep seeing photos of her performing for Taylor Swift in Europe and… whew.” Will answers, getting another chorus of laughter from the podcast hosts. “But also there’s something about her vibe. She seems really down-to-earth and genuine. I’ve seen her in interviews and she’s got a great sense of humor.”

Dan grinned. “Sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Yeah, maybe a bit,” Will admitted, laughing. “But, you know, it’s hard not to admire someone like that. She’s got the whole package.”

“Quick, favorite song of hers?” Chris asked.

Will didn’t have to think much before answering. “Close To You. It’s just such a fun song to listen to.”

“If you have a message for Madeleine that we might be able to get to her at some point, what would it be?” Dan asked.

Will chuckled, questioning if he really wanted to it all out bare on this podcast. “Answer my DM,” he said, confidence lacing his tone.

“No way you’ve DM’ed her.” Chris laughed.

Will simply shrugged, laughing along with the two brothers. Dan leaned in with mock seriousness. "Alright, Sharks fans, you heard it here first—Will Smith’s got game both on and off the ice."

As the podcast wrapped up, Will thanked Chris and Dan, and they walked him out. His agent was waiting, jumping straight into talking about his schedule, but Will wasn't really listening. He was still stuck replaying the last part of the interview in his head.

Did I really just say that? His mind replayed the last part of the interview—talking about Madeleine Chase with no filter, like some lovestruck kid. He cringed inwardly, imagining how it must have sounded to anyone listening. He could already hear the ribbing from his teammates once this went live, and he cringed. His agent's voice was just white noise now as Will’s thoughts spiraled, imagining the potential fallout.

Answer my DM. The words bounced around his head like an unwelcome reminder of how he’d opened himself up for a joke. What if she actually did hear it? He wasn’t sure what compelled him to be so bold, especially considering they didn’t know each other. Will had always been reserved, especially in public settings, and now he felt like he'd let his guard down too much.

“Will? You listening?” his agent said, snapping him out of his daze.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” Will replied quickly, though he wasn’t. He pulled out his phone, hovering over the podcast's social media page. Maybe I can ask them to cut that part out… no, that’s ridiculous. It’s too late. He forced himself to put his phone away, trying to focus on anything else but the possibility of his comment blowing up online.

Will sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to shake off the doubt. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. They laughed, so it couldn’t have been too cringey… right?

Still, the uncertainty weighed on him. California was supposed to be a fresh start, but at that moment, Will couldn’t help but feel like he’d already stumbled out of the gate.

#`✦ˑ 🤍 𓂃⊹ CIWYW au #madeleine x will #will smith hockey

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unsolved-duvall · 2 years ago

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Hi! Could you do an Eddie Munson X reader where it’s readers first time and nervous but Eddie is gentle?

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

hi my love! thank you so much for the request, i hope this is okay <3

warnings 18+ only fem!reader, virgin!reader, smut, fluff, gentle eddie, heavy kissing, oral (fem receiving), fingering, protected sex, praise kink, hair pulling, reader cries during sex (she’s overwhelmed, but it’s all good i promise!), aftercare, i think that's it but if i've missed anything please (politely) let me know! i'm so sorry if there are spelling or grammar errors, it's five in the morning and i've just finished this <3

The trailer always felt uncomfortably quiet when it was just you there. You had been resistant at first, when Eddie had given you a key and told you to treat it like your own home. You didn't want to intrude on his and Wayne's space. But he had promised you that when he had asked Wayne if it was okay for you to have a key, he had only told Eddie that he thought you already had one, expected you to. He had always treated you like his own, and you were so grateful for that.

So there you were, sat on the couch, it was comfortable and it had started to feel like home. Orange lights flickering from the lamps you had turned on around the room; you never put on the big light.

The sounds from the television reverberated around the trailer, some old tv show was on, but you weren't paying any attention to it. You had only turned it on in a futile attempt to try and distract yourself, to calm yourself down and stop your mind from racing a million miles an hour.

Eddie would be home in twenty minutes, give or take. Sometimes he got carried away with a last-minute job at the garage. Other times he was home at six o'clock on the dot. Desperate to see you.

You and Eddie had been dating for a while now and you'd honestly never been happier.

Except you hadn't had sex yet. Ever.

Eddie didn't know you were a virgin. He had never pushed you to go further than you felt comfortable with. You would touch each other, over your clothes, of course. You had definitely had some pretty needy makeout sessions on his bed, all soft whimpers and needy hands. But you had never gone further than that. You had always made some excuse up to stop, telling him that you were tired or needed to go home. He would never question you, but you could tell he was starting to be confused by your actions. You would kiss him desperately, your hips grinding down into his as he held you on his lap on the couch. He could feel how needy you were, could hear your fast breaths and small moans that you couldn't hold back whenever his tongue would run over yours. But still, you never went further than that.

Of course, Eddie would never push you. He assumed you just wanted to wait and he was okay with that. Fuck, if all he could do was kiss you forever he thought he would be okay with that too.

But you didn't want that. You wanted more. You wanted to sleep with him, more than anything. It consumed your mind twenty four hours a day, it truly was all you could think about. How he would feel, how he would hold you, how he would sound. Fuck.

But you had never done anything like that before. You were so worried you would be bad at it, that you wouldn't know what to do and Eddie would get bored of you.

You knew Eddie had slept with a couple of people before, not many, but he definitely had experience. You didn't know if that made you feel better or worse.

Just as your thoughts started to overwhelm you, the front door swung open. You knew it was Eddie just from his footsteps.

You turned your head and were met with that sickly-sweet smile he gave you whenever he got home.

"Hey baby" Eddie walked over to you, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips before he turned to go and change out of his work clothes.

Fuck. Okay.

Your feet were carrying you into his bedroom before you realised what you were doing, coming to lean in his doorway as you watched him pull on an old t-shirt and pyjama bottoms. You hadn't said anything as you had followed him, quite frankly you weren't sure he had even realised you had followed him.

"Can I talk to you?" You blurted out, making even yourself jump.

Eddie tensed up as he realised you were standing behind him, quickly relaxing again when he met your eyes.

"Yeah sweetheart, 'course. Is everything okay?" worry was etched onto his face, you were never this serious and dour looking.

When you didn't answer he gently took hold of your hand and led you over to his bed, sitting both of you down. You crossed your legs and pulled your hands into your body, fiddling with your fingers as you tried to find the right words.

Eddie's eyes darted down to your hands and saw how restless you were; you only did that when you really nervous, he had come to learn. He held both of your hands in between one of his in an attempt to calm you as much as he could. He didn't say anything, he knew you would speak when you were ready.

"I, uh- well do you know how we've never... I mean we've done some things, um-" You were blabbering, you didn't know why you were so nervous, it was just Eddie.

"Take a breath, it's okay." Eddie;s soft voice pulled down that wall of anxiety you had built around yourself.

"We've never had sex" the words left your mouth before you had even registered them. Your mouth dropped open and you tried to pull yourself away from him out of embarrassment, but he wouldn't let you. His thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand.

"I know." was all he said. He was slowly putting the pieces together. Your nerves, the way you were holding his hands a bit tighter than normal, the way you couldn't sit still. He was almost sure he knew where you were going with this, but he didn't want to assume, so he waited for you to say more.

"Do you want to?" you asked him, looking away from him, your eyes landing on the wall behind his head.

"I, well-" it was Eddie's turn to be flustered now. Because, of course he did. But he didn't know quite how to say that without sounding incredibly desperate. He was trying to keep his cool here. It was a losing battle.

He saw the anxiety flood your face, he could see how unsure you looked. He would do anything to get rid of that look.

"Sweetheart. Of course I do. I love you. But I don't want to if you don't want to."

"I want to." There was no holding back anymore, it was like the flood gates had opened and you needed to feel him. But you knew you needed to tell him one other thing before you both got carried away.

"I've never done this before." You breathed out, your eyes meeting his. "Ever. This would be my first, uh my first time."

"You're a virgin?" Eddie asked you, he couldn't hold back the slight surprise that laced his words and spread across his face.

"I'm sorry." you said. You weren't sure why, but you felt like you needed to.

Eddie pulled back a bit, his eyes scanning your face, "Baby you don't need to apologise for that, why would you say sorry?" he was genuinely confused. Did he think that you thought he wouldn't want to sleep with you because you were a virgin?

"I don't know what I'm doing," your voice came out small and timid. You had never heard yourself sound like that before. "It probably won't be very good for you, Eddie"

"Baby, first of all. This is you we're talking about. If you haven't already noticed I'm kind of ridiculously in love with you. You only have to kiss me and I fall apart," you can't help but laugh at his words, a small blush spreading across your cheeks as he pulls you closer to him.

"So please don't think for a second that sleeping with you could ever be bad." he held your hips and tapped them gently, signalling for you to sit across his lap, your legs on either side of his, as he rubbed a comforting hand up and down your back.

"Secondly, if you really want to do this. Then I promise you, it will all be on your terms okay? I won't do anything unless you tell me I can. This is all about you, yeah?" Eddie's voice had dropped a few octaves, you didn't know if he was doing it on purpose or if he was just trying to calm himself down. You could feel him beneath you, sitting on his lap didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Okay." You whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I want to do this with you, Eddie. Tonight. Now."

"Fuck, okay." Eddie lifted a hand to push your hair off your warm face, he let his hand rest on your cheek for a bit, his thumb rubbing underneath your eye, comforting you.

You couldn't wait any longer, and you had a feeling Eddie wasn't going to do anything until you made the first move. So you leant in, your lips barely brushing over his as you closed your eyes.

"I got you." was all Eddie said before he was kissing you like his life depended on it. It was slow and soft and deep and it felt like you had just taken your first breath.

You had kissed before, but there was something debilitating about this one. The promise it held, the knowledge that this was all building up to more. Eddie let his tongue run over you bottom lip, eliciting a soft whine from you as you opened for him. His tongue running over yours as the kiss deepened.

His hands were hesitant. One was resting on your hip, and the other was holding the back of your head, keeping you flush against him. But you needed more.

"Eddie," you breathed out, breathing the words against his lips.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"You can touch me, it's okay."

"Yeah? Can you lie down for me, is that okay? Or do you wanna stay like this?" Eddie asked you, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes heavy with want.

"I wanna lie down, yeah." you told him quietly. He moved you both gently so that you were lying pressed against the soft mattress beneath you. You moved your legs so he could lay in between them, he breathed out an almost silent thank you at your movements.

Neither of you wanted to break the comfortable quietness that was filling his bedroom. The sounds of your breathing and movements were more than enough.

Eddie leant down to press his lips against yours again, the kiss still as slow and deep as the first one. Your hands moved to rest in his hair, your fingers tangling in the curls he never brushed out on a work day. His weight rested on his forearms, but he used one hand to rest on your cheek. Your entire being was filled with Eddie. His tongue in your mouth, his hand on your body. It was all just Eddie Eddie Eddie.

Time didn't exist when Eddie had you pinned against the mattress. You might have been kissing for two minutes or two hours; you had no way of knowing. Not when he had managed to find his way into every part of you; his kiss running through your veins, filling your lungs as you breathed him in.

He made sure to hold his weight off of you, but still, it was all consuming. His hair fell around your faces and you couldn't imagine doing anything else but this for the rest of your life.

But that need grew deeper and you subconsciously moved one of your legs to wrap it around Eddie's waist. Pulling him tighter against you. That, mixed with your moans that you were not letting flow freely from you, was a silent plea for him to give you more.

That was all Eddie had been waiting for. He needed you to need him, not just want him.

He reluctantly pulled away from kissing you, his lips trailing down your jaw and landing on your neck. You craned your head back, pressing it further into the pillow that Eddie had somehow got underneath your head when he lay you down.

He pressed soft kisses on your neck, he wasn't trying to mark you. Not tonight, not unless you explicitly asked him to. Tonight he was determined to be as gentle and tender with you as possible. He needed you to feel safe with him. It was the least he could do, you were being as vulnerable as you could be with another human being, and he respected that.

He honestly couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he was lucky enough to be with you in this way. Your soft skin under his fingertips and your small whimpers in his ears, this was as close to heaven as he was sure he was ever going to get.

Eddie pulled his head from your neck and saw your blissed out face, how your eyes were softly shut and your eyelashes fluttered against your cheek.

He moved his hands down to rest on the waistband of the pyjama pants you had on.

They were his.

You felt his fingertips at your waist and you opened your eyes to watch him.

"Can I take these off, angel?" Eddie breathed. Placing a small kiss on your stomach, just above where the waistband sat.

You nodded your head in a deafening confirmation. "Nuh-uh sweetheart, I need you to use your words for me, okay?" Eddie looked up at you from where he lay between your legs. The sight alone was enough to send your heart racing.

"You can take them off," you responded, "please take them off." almost begging as your voice cracked with every word. You didn't realise how desperate you were until you were so close to having what you needed.

"That's my girl, thank you." Eddie said, his calloused fingers moving to go underneath the waistband of your his pyjama pants. He moved them down, pulling them over your hips and down your thighs. Every movement was slow, soft, calculated.

All intended to have you desperate and whining underneath him by the end of it.

Before you had time to register it, legs were bare and Eddie was kissing them. Small, barely there kisses, intended only to relax you when he felt you tense up under his gaze.

You didn't know what to do with your hands. They lay limp beside you. You didn't know what you were meant to be doing. Were you meant to touch him? Move your hips for him to take your underwear off? Pull him up to kiss him again? You didn't know-

"Hey, sweetheart, look at me." Eddie's stern but loving voice pulled you out of the onslaught of insecurity that threatened to take over. Your breathing had sped up, he had noticed that, but not because of him.

"We can stop if you want to, okay? We don't have to do this if you've changed your mind, that's okay. We can talk more about this more before we do anything else. I can kiss you some more, or I can leave you alone, if that's what you want. I just need you to tell me, okay love? Just tell me what you need me to do."

You didn't know what to say, or do, or think, or feel. You were overwhelmed, but in a good way. Eddie had barely touched you and this was already more than you could have asked for it to be.

You felt the bed move beside you, Eddie was about to move off of you. You realised you hadn't said anything to him, and he had probably taken that to mean that you wanted to stop. You grabbed his arm and he paused his movements, not yet lowering himself back over you, but not moving further away either.

"I don't want to stop. I just- fuck, I don't know." you had never been good with words, Eddie knew that, it was why he was so patient with you. It wasn't that you didn't know what you wanted to say, it was that you couldn't say it.

"I'm just nervous." Eddie's eyes softened at your vulnerability.

"But I want this, I want you. I just need you to tell me what to do, show me. I don't want to make all the moves here, please, I need you to do that."

You saw the hesitancy that hit Eddie at hearing your confession, he didn't want you to feel like you didn't have any control in this situation.

"I know, I know that you want me to tell you what's okay and what's not but- Eddie, everything is okay. Touch me, kiss me, I don't care. I'm doing this with you because I love you."

Both of your hearts were racing. Eddie had never heard you so certain, he had never heard you speak so confidently. There was still a shake to your voice, it was still quiet and vulnerable. But he knew you meant every word, he knew how hard it was for you to be so open with him. It made his heart break and repair itself all in one go.

"I trust you and I need you to trust me when I tell you that I will tell you if you do something I don't like, or don't feel comfortable with. But please, I'm begging you, please fuck me, I've waited so long." A breathy laugh laced your last words, you couldn't quite tell if you were laughing out of relief or nervousness, but either way.

You felt okay. You felt good. You felt like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

"Okay." Eddie leant back down and kissed you. It was quick, his tongue barely passing yours, but it was enough. It sent your heart racing again, because of Eddie. His taste lingering on your tongue as he lowered himself down your body until he was lay with his head resting on your thigh, his hands on your waist.

"Can I touch touch you here, angel?" Eddie asked despite what you had just told him, his fingers lightly grazing your cunt still covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You went to nod your head but then Eddie's earlier words echoed in your mind, "Yeah you can touch me." you moaned out, a small kiss he placed on your inner thigh causing your fingers to grasp the blanket beneath you.

"Good girl." Eddie praised you, it was quiet, almost as if he was uncertain at what your reaction would be. But when he saw your breath hitch he smirked, he knew you liked that shit. He just knew it.

Eddie ran his fingers over your slit, your wetness had practically drenched your underwear. If Eddie wanted to, he didn't say anything about it. Instead he just slowly moved his fingers along you, so gentle that if you weren't so worked up you barely would have felt it.

But you did. You could feel everything. His hands on you, his breath on your cunt, his hair that fell over your thigh.

Eddie went to move your underwear, but before he pulled it off you he looked up at you once more, a silent question hung in the air between you.

You nodded, and Eddie kept looking at you as his fingers slid underneath your underwear and he pulled them off you, throwing them somewhere behind him. You suddenly felt incredibly exposed, you closed your legs in reflex. Eddie wasn't having that.

"Open your legs for me, baby. It's just me, I promise you're okay."

Eddie could ask you to jump off a cliff in that voice and you would say yes. Your legs fell open slowly, your head turned to the side to hide in the pillow under you.

"Fuck sweets, you're fucking perfect." Eddie sounded wrecked. His voice hoarse and breaking at the final word.

"I'm gonna touch you now, okay? You tell me if something hurts, or you don't like it."

"Okay," you managed to get the word out, hardly.

Eddie finally ran his fingers through you. Gathering your wetness between them and moving his fingers up to that sweet spot between your legs; it took him a second to find it, but when he did your hips bucked up and the sweetest moan fell from your open mouth.

"Yeah? That felt good, huh sweetheart?" Eddie kept working his fingers against you, occasionally dropping them back down and running them over your slit, never dipping them into you just yet.

He pressed soft, slow circles over your clit, his fingers pulling obscene sounds from you, you tried to hold them back, moving a hand to muffle the noises you were making. "No baby, let me hear you." was all Eddie had said before you dropped your hand and lost yourself in the new sensations.

You had touched yourself before, but it had never felt like this. When you did it, it always felt rushed, like you were racing towards the finish line, and when you got there it was never as good as everyone else seemed to say it was. But not with Eddie.

You were getting desperate. Eddie was leaning over you and his fingers were on you and you could hear his breath hitch every time you moaned and you could see his eyebrows srunched together in concentration as he touched you.

It was like a waterfall of emotions ran over you and you needed him right now. You needed him inside you or you were sure you would start crying.

"Eds, please."

"What do you need baby? huh?" Eddie asked you, his tone almost mocking. It truly wasn't meant to be. He was being as sincere as he could be, but you were falling apart underneath his touch and he was dying inside.

"I need you. Need you inside me, please just, please-" Eddie cut you off with an all-consuming kiss. His lips moving against yours, his fingers never once stalling their never-ending movements against your most sensitive part.

"Not yet, baby. I gotta get you ready first, okay? You gotta take my fingers before you can take me, yeah? Can you do that for me, is that okay?"

"Yeah, shit, okay."

Eddie moved away from your face, leaning so he could watch where his fingers lay against you. He slowly moved them down to run between your folds, like he had done before, only this time he kept them there. You felt his middle finger press against your entrance and you had to fight every instinct in your body to stop yourself bucking your hips against his hand.

Eddie gently pressed his finger into you, he moved so slowly you barely felt the pressure. He stopped once he got to his knuckle and looked up at you, "does that feel okay? It doesn't hurt or anything?"

He was so sincere it broke your heart, "It's tight," you told him honestly. "But it's okay, it feels good."

"Okay, okay baby." Eddie pulled back and pressed his finger back into you, a little further this time and you mewled at the new sensation. He stopped quickly, waiting for you to tell him to stop, but you didn't, you just tightened your grip on his arm.

He kept working you open until you took his whole finger, his ring rubbing against your entrance with each smooth thrust against you. Soon, it wasn't enough and you needed more.

"I can take more." you told him, eyelashes fluttering up at him as he watched your face.

"Good girl" Eddie breathed against your ear and goosebumps ran down your arms. He smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction.

Eddie moved another finger to press into you, both of them together was a stretch you weren't expecting. You winced again and the concern flooded back into Eddie's face, "you can do this baby, huh? It'll feel so good I promise. Just breathe for me."

You listened to Eddie's every word like it was law. Taking in steadying breaths with each thrust of his fingers, as he worked you open.

Soon both of his fingers were inside you. It still felt sore, but the pleasure was overwhelming and you couldn't help the way your hips moved to meet his movements. Eddie's face lightened at your reaction, at how your eyes went heavy with pleasure and your body moved of its own accord.

You moved a hand that was resting beside you to pull him down by his chain that dangled over you, into a fiery kiss. All teeth and tongue as you clenched around his fingers.

"Fuck baby," Eddie pulled back from your kiss, looking down at your cunt and then back up at you again, "can I eat you out, is that okay?"

You felt your confidence falter, you didn't know what that meant. Not really. It felt embarassing not to know, you should know, right?

It was as if Eddie could read your mind, he placed a soothing kiss on your forehead before he said "So, I put my mouth on you and I use my tongue and it feels really fucking good, so I've been told."

Eddie winced at his accidental mention of his other sexual experiences. Not that it was a secret, but it wasn't the right time for him to bring them up. He was just trying to relax you.

"Oh- okay, yeah. You can do that." You told him, pointedly ignoring his mention of other experiences. He didn't mean it like that, he was just as nervous as you were, he was just better at hiding it. For your sake.

Eddie placed one last gentle kiss to your lips before slipping his fingers out of you carefully, and moving down to your centre. He pulled your legs over his shoulders and made sure you were comfortable.

Then, he ran his tongue over your folds and over your clit. And your whole body convulsed under you. Your back arching up and your neck craning back.

Eddie laughed against you, "Oh yeah? Was that okay?" he knew the answer, but you seemed more comfortable now and he wanted to tease you a bit, he figured it would turn you on even more, and he would do anything to see your desperation grow.

"Fucking shit, oh my god- yeah, please do that again, Eddie-"

You didn't need to ask him twice, he delved back in. Running his tongue through your slit before dipping it inside you quickly, the action pulling a moan from the back of your throat. "You can put your hands in my hair if you need to sweetheart, it's okay" you weren't sure what Eddie meant straight away, but then Eddie moved his mouth up to your clit.

You almost died, you were sure of it.

Your hand reached down to grab onto his hair. Either to ground you or keep him pressed against you. You weren't sure.

Eddie kept lapping at your cunt like it was breathing air into his lungs, his tongue alternating between sucking your clit into his mouth and running down your folds, dipping into you and tasting how desperate you were.

You tightened your grip in his curls and his hold on your waist got firmer, keeping you pinned against the mattress.

"Eddie," you said suddenly.

He pulled back and looked up at you, his mouth covered in your wetness. If you weren't so turned on you would have crawled away from him out of embarrassment. But instead it only made your stomach drop and your heart race.

"I need you to fuck me" was all you said.

"Are you sure, you were so close angel?" He had heard you hold your breath and felt you legs tighten around him, he could already read you better than you could.

"No, I wanna come with you inside me, please." You were practically begging at this point and Eddie relented. He didn't want you begging, not this time. He wanted to give you whatever you needed.

“Okay angel, let me get a condom yeah?” you nodded as Eddie moved away from you. It was only then that you noticed he was still fully dressed. Something about that made your breath hitch. You didn’t know why.

You watched as Eddie pulled his top over his head, his eyes found yours as you stared at his bare chest. He bit back a smirk, he wouldn’t tease you about that, not yet anyway.

You were pulled out of your trance when you saw him take of his pyjama bottoms he had thrown on earlier. He hadn’t put any underwear off, something you were very grateful for.

He was big, but you already knew that. You had felt him before when you moved your hips against him during those late night make-out sessions. You had also seen him before, Eddie had a habit of walking around the trailer without a towel, after a shower, when he knew Wayne wasn’t home. He had made sure you were comfortable with it first, and when you have managed to stumble out that you had no objections to it he had only kissed you and told you he would also have no objections to you walking around naked.

Eddie grabbed a condom from his side table and rolled it on. You meant to ask if you could do it for him, but you were too distracted.

He moved to lay back on top of you and you grabbed his shoulders instantly, you felt the nerves creeping back in and you needed to ground yourself.

"I've got you baby" Eddie said, as if he knew exactly why you had grabbed onto him, "I'll go real slow, I promise. If it hurts you just tell me and I'll stop."

You nodded your head and Eddie tapped your thighs, encouraging you to wrap your legs around him.

Eddie reached down and lined himself up against your hot cunt, your breath hitched at the slight contact and you closed your eyes.

"Hey, look at me," Eddie said, "Give me your eyes sweetheart, I need to see you while we do this" Eddie's voice had never sounded so gentle.

You opened your heavy eyelids and met his gaze, it was full of love and adoration and you were sure yours mimicked his.

Eddie leant down and pressed his lips against yours. He was trying to distract you while he first pushed in, you didn't know that though.

Eddie gently pushed into you, barely even getting the tip in before you winced in pain. He looked at you, eyes full of worry, he thought he would get a little more in before you reacted like that.

"It's okay, it's okay" Eddie told you when he saw your face scrunch up in worry. "It's normal for it to hurt the first time baby, do you want me to stop?"

"No, fuck, it's okay" you shifted uncomfortably but soon stopped moving when you realised it only made it hurt more.

"Just- keep going slow, I'm just nervous"

"I know, but you're doing so well for me, huh?" Eddie encouraged you and it helped ease you a little more.

He pushed in a little more, ready to stop when your body tensed up again, but you told him to keep going, that it was more of a harsh pressure than actual pain. So he did, reluctantly, watching your face for any sign of you being in more pain.

He got about halfway in before you pushed back on his shoulder and asked him to stop. He still inside you and pressed a kiss to your parted lips, "good girl, thank you for telling me".

You nodded your head, your eyes screwed shut again as you tried to adjust to the feeling of him being inside you. "Just breathe, that's it baby."

Eddie ran his hand through the hair that had fallen over your face, pushing it off you so he could properly see you.

You took a couple of deep breaths, basking in the love and attention Eddie was showing you. Soon enough the dull pain turned to a pulsing need to feel more of him.

"You can move" you told him, he kissed your cheek and started to push his hips in again. It didn't hurt as much anymore. Eddie had snaked his hand between your bodies to run his fingers over your sensitive clit in a bid to distract you from the dull ache.

It worked, because soon enough he had fully bottomed out in you.

"How does that feel sweets?" Eddie asked you.

"it's a lot" you replied, Eddie just smiled and rubbed his nose against yours. If you had told him a year ago he would be rubbing noses with some girl he was ridiculously in love with he would have laughed and then told you to fuck off, he would never do that, But here he was.

"But it feels good, it's just, oh shit, like a dull ache that's all. It doesn't hurt anymore." You assure him.

"That's good baby, you did so well for me. You just tell me when I can move." He told you, dipping his head down to rest in the juncture of your neck, pressing heavy kisses into your skin.

You let him carry on like that for a minute, enjoying his lips on your skin and how full you felt from his being fully inside you.

"You can move, Eddie." You told him after a while. Your legs tightening around his waist.

"Fuck, okay angel" The relief Eddie felt at being able to finally move was palpable. He pulled out of you slightly before he pushed back in, you moaned instantly and it only spurred him on more.

He found a rhythm that was perfect for both of you, he never fully pulled out, but he kept the pressure on you as he ground his hips against yours, hitting that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

You swear your whole body was crying out for Eddie. You moaned and whimpered, his name falling from your tongue like a prayer. He kept his head in your neck, sucking love bites into your skin after you had begged him to. The burst blood vessels underneath your skin made it look like Eddie was painting a galaxy across your neck.

He eventually pulled back and kissed you. Deep and sure. But your moans kept you from kissing him back the way you wanted to. You clawed at his back and shoulders and he let his head fall to rest next to yours. You could hear every moan he made when he was that close to you, and you swear it was that which sent you tumbling over the edge of that cliff Eddie had held you over all evening.

"Fuck, baby, I think I'm-" you couldn't even finish your sentence, pleasure washing over you.

"Yeah sweetheart? You gonna come for me, huh?" Eddie talked you through it as your scrunched your eyes closed and pulled his hips closer to you, you feet digging into his lower back.

"That's my girl, let go for me. I've got you, it's okay."

You fell apart underneath him and you were almost certain you screamed his name, but you couldn't be sure. Your ears were ringing and there were stars dancing over your eyes and all you could feel was Eddie as he stilled inside you.

Eddie came as you did, hearing your moans and cries as you came undone was all it took for him to come crashing down.

You both held onto each other as you let your bodies come back down from whatever the hell kind of religious experience that had just been.

Neither of you spoke for a while. Sounds of your heavy breathing and whines filling Eddie's bedroom.

Eventually Eddie lifted his head from the crook of your neck. His hair sticking to his sweaty face. You giggled and pushed it off his face, much like he had done to you earlier.

"Are you okay?" he asked you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of pain or regret. He didn't find any. He was only met with overwhelming love.

You nodded and felt tears prick at your eyes, oh fuck.

"Hey, hey, whoa. Baby? What's wrong? Does something hurt?" Eddie asked you desperately. Totally unsure of what to do.

You shook your head quickly, "No, nothing- I just, that was a lot, and I love you and I cry sometimes you know this" You managed to get out through little cries as you let the tears fall.

Eddie couldn't help the laugh he let out, it was a mix of relief and happiness as he watched you. He pulled you tighter against you and held you until you calmed down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay? It might hurt a little sweetheart" He told you, taking hold of one of your hands before he slowly pulled out of you. You hissed at the feel of it, but you missed him filling you up more than it hurt.

"I know baby, it's okay. I'm gonna go and get a towel to clean you up, okay?" you nodded and Eddie moved off of you.

You only realised you had closed your eyes when you felt Eddie's hands on your legs. He had put his pyjama pants back on, but left the top off.

You let him part your legs again, running a warm washcloth over you as you whimpered at the overstimulation. He shushed you gently and assured he was nearly done. He pulled you up by your hands, into a sitting position at the end of the bed, and you wrapped your arms around his stomach, resting your head against him as he ran his hands through your hair, kissing your head.

Eddie hated to interrupt this moment but he knew you needed to go to the bathroom before you both fell into bed and went to sleep. He remorsefully told you so and he heard you groan, your grip tightening around him.

Eventually you did let go off him, he walked you to the bathroom and only left when you told him to go and get into bed, that you would be back soon.

You made your way back from the bathroom to see Eddie had changed the bed sheets. You didn't ask why.

Eddie smiled at you as you walked over to him, throwing yourself down and clawing at the duvet to get underneath it with him. He laughed and lifted the covers for you to climb under.

"Was that okay, sweetheart?" Eddie asked you quietly as you settled in next to him, your legs tangled together and your head resting on his chest. His arms keeping you pulled tightly against him.

"It was perfect, baby." you breathed out, tiredness quickly overtaking your whole body.

Eddie ran his hands over your back and whispered a "I love you" against your head.

"I love you too" you told him, before you fell asleep. Both of you a mess of limbs tangled together.

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